Denouement
by Eleve Osirian
Summary: Maerad is brutally attacked. In her pain, she's unable to realize Cadvan's animosity towards the situation. In the end, she's the only one that can save Cadvan, whom she's growing to love, from the same intolerable anguish she feels- by telling the truth.
1. Chapter 1

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**Author note: **_There is additional information about this story in my profile that will answer questions that I couldn't fit into the summary. Please check there if you wish for more details. Also, thanks to my many beta readers who helped me edit this story, and to all my reviewers. Your support has helped me tremendously. The following poem was written by an Irish Poet named Eavan Boland; I added a bit of a Pellinor touch to it, but the rights for the main idea belong with her._

* * *

_After the wolves and before the elms  
the order of Sharma has ended in our land._

_Only a few remain to continue  
the dead art in a dying land._

_Reader of poems, lover of poetry—  
in case you thought this was a gentle art  
follow this woman, our hero on a moonless night  
to the wretched bed she will have to make._

_The Bardic world stretches out under the hawthorn tree  
and burns in the rain. This is its home,  
its last frail shelter. All of it—  
Norloch, the Wild Geese and what went before—  
falters into cadence before she sleeps:  
She shuts her eyes; darkness has fallen on the land._

_Darkness has fallen again._

_~Excerpt from 'The Journey of the Maid of Innail'_

* * *

Cadvan peered out one of the frosted windows of Malgorn and Silvia's home, desperate for a glimpse of Maerad. It had been over a fortnight since her departure to Nenn, a small village a few leagues outside the School, and Cadvan wanted nothing more than to see her again. He opened the shutters over the window, to see firsthand how terrible the blizzard was. As he freed the outer blinds, they tore from his hands and banged against the wall in a blast of freezing cold wind. Cadvan glimpsed the swirling whiteness: the desolate landscape appeared more akin to the moon in its hospitality, and it seemed that any noise, no matter how loud or small, would be swallowed by the howling wind and snow. A shiver ran down his spine as he wrestled the shutters back and bolted them closed again. He hadn't realized how bitterly cold it was - the walls were quite thick. _If Maerad is out in the open_, he thought, _she will freeze to death._

"You shouldn't be so anxious, Cadvan." Silvia sighed, leaning into a high-backed wooden chair. The kind, gentle-faced woman smiled warmly upon seeing his expression. "I'm sure she's waiting the storm out safely inside a warm inn, just like you told her to."

Cadvan crossed his arms, and glanced at Malgorn, who winked at Silvia's remark. He didn't have the heart to argue and her reasoning did seem logical. Maerad was not a fool, and she knew better than to go riding in inclement weather. Silvia was right - whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"I suppose," he replied. He found a seat and stretched his legs out. "I wonder how she enjoyed her time away."

"I'm sure she loved it," Malgorn replied. A slight frown formed along the corners of his thin mouth. "More than I love playing cards, that much is certain."

Cadvan grinned, watching the fair-haired man collect the cards before him into a disorganized pile. "I admire the fact that despite everyone's urgings to quit before you made a fool out of yourself, you still play," Cadvan joked.

Malgorn didn't bother looking up, but Cadvan could see the glimmer of amusement in his friend's dark eyes."Yes, I am a bit stubborn," Malgorn answered in play. "But I only inherited that trait when I befriended you."

"To answer you properly, Cadvan, Maerad always wanted to travel the world. This journey to Nenn was the beginning of her dream becoming reality," said Silvia. "She'll be home soon enough to listen to both of you rambling on about who inherited what from the other."

Smirking, Cadvan grabbed for his glass of wine, savoring its crisp taste as he looked out the window once more. The snow hadn't let up for days, thwarting his attempts to keep himself occupied. He had planned to arrange Maerad's lessons, but he wasn't about to trudge through the billowing blizzard outside to do so. His experience in the Gwalhain Pass had taught him to avoid winter weather if possible, for both he and Maerad had almost lost their lives to its icy wrath. Such planning would have to wait until the skies cleared, and he could move about the School without worry. He spent his time instead with Silvia and Malgorn, telling them of his and Maerad's quest to destroy Sharma. He enjoyed their company, a warmth filling his heart from being with his friends, but he still felt caged. It was part of his nature to enjoy travelling; he'd never felt comfortable staying in any one place too long. He was constantly fidgeting without something to do, without someone to talk to. Without Maerad.

_Maerad doesn't know I love her,_ Cadvan ruminated, still watching the everchanging scenery outside. _I never explained that I needed her - I didn't even know how much she meant to me until she left..._

He had come to realize how lonely he'd become without her companionship. He missed the days of wandering through the wilderness, just the two of them, laughing over trivial things, singing songs. He did his best to forget the burdens of their pasts, the many times they had argued, the times they had doubted each other. Cadvan guessed that Silvia knew his feelings towards Maerad, but she had never spoken to him about it. He had come to the conclusion after the first week that he had to tell Maerad exactly how he felt. He couldn't let her leave again without her understanding that she meant everything to him._ I'll tell her that I want to be wherever it is she goes - I want to protect and guide her._ Malgorn strummed a chord on his lyre, breaking Cadvan's train of thought.

"Shall we play a tune?" Malgorn asked. "Might pass the time a bit faster."

Cadvan nodded absent mindedly, grabbing his instrument from his leather pack near the fireplace. He played with his friend, but his thoughts continued to stray to Maerad.

* * *

Snow and ice pelted Maerad like thousands of sharp stones beating down upon her from the heavens, scolding her for being so careless. She was blasted with squalls of hail, rocking her back and forth in the saddle. Nothing could be heard over the wind that tore her fur-lined hood back and exposed her long dark hair to the swirling currents. She knew the weather wished to claim her for its own purposes, to wrap her in snow and top her with an icy ribbon. It was a wish she was not ready to grant, and she continued to fight against it. She dug her uninjured heel into Imi's side, urging the animal to move faster. Everything inside her screamed to find safety.

_Please let us be close. Her mind was racing._

Maerad's relief upon seeing the faint outline of the School was short lived, for the burning in her arm worsened with the jarring, fluctuating speed of her mount.

"_I cannot travel in this weather,"_ Imi snorted and shied against the raging wind._ "It is too difficult."_

"_Please, Imi. I have to make it to the School,"_ Maerad begged.Imi ignored her plea and came to a halt, continuing her labored breathing. Tremors of cold and fear shook the animal's body.

"_I cannot walk,"_ she stroked the hair on Imi's neck. _"Please-"_

"_I am sorry, Maerad,"_ Imi apologized. The small horse shifted its weight to relieve its damaged fetlocks. _"I can't carry you any further."_

Maerad wrapped her uninjured arm around Imi's withers and sobbed. She peered out from beneath her blue cloak, and saw Imi's damaged legs. The layers of ice are like razors; of course she is injured, she scorned herself. The flesh above her hooves was swollen and marred, the grey hair stained with crimson blood. Maeard felt instant remorse wash across her innards. In her vain attempt to escape the village, Maerad had ignored the animal's health, and now she would pay for it, possibly with her own life. _If Imi cannot carry me, then I must crawl. I cannot give up now._

Maerad bit her lip against resurfacing anger. She was the Fire Lily, the savior of Edil-Amarandh, Elednor. If she could defeat The Nameless One, then surely she could survive a storm. The unwillingness to accept a humiliating defeat caused her to dismount carelessly into the deep snow, taking no time to consider her injuries. She cried out in pain as its crusty surface raked over her fractured ankle. Her scream went unheard, lost in the dark, barren landscape around her. It was the cold, empty silence that caused foul memories to rise.

"_Ah, Maerad. So nice of you to join my company this evening."_

_Maerad turned to find Adian standing near the door._

_She had taken Cadvan's advice and stopped at the Running Wolf Inn when she encountered the outer edge of a snowstorm. The rates were cheap and the owner was Cadvan's distant cousin, Cyril. She was displeased when she learned that Cyril was in Desor and had left this Adian in charge, but by then the storm had grown fierce, so she took a room. The decision would not have troubled her at all, if not for the fact that she was the Inn's sole guest._

"_I was just coming downstairs to find a glass of water; my throat is parched," she said, and attempted to slip by him. His hand shot out and landed on her shoulder, preventing her from escaping._

"_Well since you are already down here, perhaps we can spend some time together before you leave?" The man's words were provocative._

_A raging dread rose within her as she pushed him away. "I'm just getting water, thank you," she said, her voice much sterner than usual._

"_You have a lover, is that it?" he inquired, not backing down. His spidery fingers and greasy skin made his words even more revolting, as they came from a man who contained no visible dignity. Maerad assumed he hadn't bathed in some time and it made her wonder why Cyril would've chosen such a man to guard his business._

"_I-"_

_"Did you forget?"_

_"No, I didn't," she said defensively. She made to brush past him, and he grabbed her throat. She was pinned against the high wall of the lounge._

"_Perhaps you should have brought him along! This would have been dangerously fun then!" he said._

"_Get off me!" she demanded, calling for her Magery before he brought his hand hard across her face._

"_Your Magery won't work here, witch!" he cursed and threw her to the ground. She felt something snap._

Maerad forgot the accumulating snow surrounding her in a frosty tomb. In that moment, she welcomed death. If I die now, I will not have to deal with this suffering, she told herself. Her body was slowly freezing, despite the shield Imi provided against the storm's full strength. Her bloodied lips were turning purple, as were her hands and feet. Hypothermia was sinking its fangs into her, and there was nothing Maerad could do to prevent it.

"_You have to get up, Little One."_ Imi nosed her._ "They are expecting us home."_

_"Home."_ The cold made her voice tremble as she repeated the word. Her home had been destroyed when she was only a child, but Innail sufficed. It was the place she had come into the world of Barding after Cadvan had found her in Gilman's Cot. She had met Silvia there, her newfound mother, and learned of her destiny as the Chosen One. Innail was the last hope left in her failing vision, for it represented everything she needed. Warmth. Food. Safety. She just had to find a way to get there.

Crawling and pulling her limp body with one arm over the snowdrifts, she threw away her desire to flee, to die there in the wilderness outside of Innail. It was no use trying to escape reality. Her only comfort came from Imi, who had not fled._ "Please don't leave me."_ Her tear stained eyelashes were frozen.

_"I won't leave you,"_ Imi responded.

Getting to the city's gates became a gradual and uncomfortable process. The fresh cuts on her legs left a trail of dark blood with each forward movement. The pain in her arm screamed for her to rest, as did her numb digits. She wondered what would happen if she did stop._ I would lose what fingers I have left. It would be just like Zmarkan, and then I would truly be useless._ The morbid thought spurred her onward; she couldn't afford to lose another part of herself.

Through the blizzard, Maerad could see the peaks of Osidh Annova rearing up like huge shadows to her left, blades of darkness cutting into the sky. The outline of Innail appeared with its noble towers thrusting gracefully upward, behind a wall of white stone that blended in with the whitewashed air. She arrived at the gates of thick oak stoutly barred with black steel. The School showed no signs of life, save the faint glow of the fireplace lighting the residence of Silvia and Malgorn. It was late and most of the Bards were already asleep in their warm beds, oblivious to the plight of their heroine outside_._

Maerad winced and continued forward until she reached the main courtyard. In the center stood the same familiar fountain, its water source cut off for the winter. The garden beds had disappeared for the season, though the huge smooth flags of Innail still waved in the wind. She would have to cut through curving streets of graceful buildings and across more courtyards to reach the refuge of the First Bard's great stone house, an impossible feat; she was completely drained of energy. Even if she did make it, the doors were so large and heavy that she wouldn't have the strength to knock, let alone open them. She fell to her knees and sobbed, grateful that she was at least under the school's aura of safety.

"_Cadvan,"_ she managed, shielding her eyes from the bitter cold.

Maerad could barely hear the sound of a beautiful song, one that seemed so close and yet so far away. She imagined she felt the tingling warmth of the great fireplace as she listened to it, the taste of the beef stew that would be hanging over the fireplace lingering in her dry mouth. She wrapped her cloak tighter and shuddered. Minutes turned into eternity as she waited for someone to find her. She wished more than anything that she had just given in when she wasn't so cold, alone, and in torment._ To have come so far only to die within sight of where I want to be..._

She believed Cadvan to be an illusion when he came into view, a mere figure of her hopes and desires. His shoulder length hair danced wildly about his face in the gusts of wind, his shadowy figure blurred against the white glaze that painted the air. He ran forward, scooping her up from the ground._ "This isn't real,"_ she told herself, bracing for the darkness that would soon follow.

_"Hold on Maerad,"_ she faintly heard him say through mindspeech. He carried her towards Silvia's in a hurry, the heat from his body snaking its way through her cloak and dress. It stung her skin, but she welcomed the feeling- it gave her faith that life would not end so miserably. With one last glance up at Cadvan, she let herself fall into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Cadvan bore Maerad to one of the couches scattered about the open lounge in Malgorn's home. His mind raced in a thousand directions as he knelt by her side. _What had happened? Why did she travel in this weather? _His gaze trailed from her limp right arm down to her swollen ankle in sudden alarm; the weather had taken a toll on her.

"Maerad?" Silvia asked frantically, coming to Cadvan's side.

"She's not conscious," he responded. He cupped her thin, pale face with his hands, hoping it would raise her body temperature faster. From what he could tell, her fingers had long since changed color, a telltale sign of frostbite, or worse, hypothermia. Upon feeling her forehead, Cadvan knew she needed immediate attention. He cursed in the Speech and removed his cloak to drape it over her battered frame; the fireplace across the room wouldn't provide enough heat. "She needs to see a healer immediately. I think she has hypothermia."

"She cannot go back out there, Cadvan." Silvia stopped him. "Use your senses!"

Cadvan barely accepted the harsh reality of the situation. He brushed a shaking hand through his dark hair. He had to find a way to occupy his frantic thoughts, for he could be of no assistance to his friends, especially Maerad, if he made irrational decisions. Maerad's lack of consciousness had unnerved him to the point where his desire to help the woman he loved erased common sense, and it took several deep breaths to calm himself.

"Where are you going?" he asked Malgorn, who had risen from his seat and was making his way towards the door.

"I'm going to find a healer," he said while bringing his hood up. "Silvia, get some water boiling and try to find some Laradhel. _You_ stay with Maerad."

Silvia wasted no time hurrying to the kettle hanging above the hot coals of the fireplace. She filled it with fresh water, and Cadvan listened to a few drops escape into the flames below, sizzling as they vaporized into the heavy air. Silvia then left the room.

Cadvan returned his attention to Maerad. She had lost considerable weight, and it frightened him. She had been quite thin before she left and now she was little more than a skeleton. It agitated him knowing there was nothing he could do until Malgorn returned with help. Pacing the room once again did little to mend the issue. "Where is he?"

"He had to cross the School," Silvia's voice echoed from the hallway. She emerged with a bottle of tonic and a change of clothing. "The weather might be worse than what you encountered when you found her."

_'Might be,' _Cadvan scoffed. Of course the weather was terrible; it was a certainty that even leaving the house could prove lethal. When he had heard Maerad's faint cry for help deep within the recesses of his Knowing, the snow had instantly blinded him. He condemned the infuriating weather as he found the courage to sit next to Maerad. "Her breathing is too shallow; Malgorn must hurry."

_"_I must get those wet clothes off her. The longer they are on, the worse she will get," Silvia said. "I'm going to need your assistance."

He winced when his eyes met the freshest laceration on Maerad's leg. It still wept blood. _"Elednor," h__e _coaxed through mind-speech. Cadvan hoped she would respond. _"What has done this to you?"_

* * *

_Maerad was flying above the tree line. She was safe from the dangerous schemes of men and the dark magery of Sharma and his minions. Most of all, she was whole. The elemental powers that she had lost after the reforging of the Treesong surged through her veins, and lifted her higher and farther away from the ground. She understood the complex voices of the earth, of each plant and stream and animal. She even understood the stars, which contrasted against their deep ebony backdrop.__ Each beacon eluded her grasp even though they surrounded her with a brilliant light. They called her by her Elidhu name, and she wanted to answer, but found she had no tongue with which to reply. Her mind was roused from its questioning as it was consumed with icy shards of her past experiences, coming to rest at the very man who had caused her to fall so far away from the Light - the purity it represented. She could barely make out his loathsome features but each touch caused anger to succeed over all other influences. _

_A whisper invaded her inner space. "Elednor."_

_She reacted instinctively and wildly, lashing out without thought of repercussion. She pushed the intruder far with a sense of power reminscent of what she had lost destroying Sharma, her Elidhu self that had been stolen from her; it felt good. It felt right. Wielding it once more made her glow with vigor. She could actually defend herself. __'Attack me again,' she demanded, as she dared the man to retaliate. _

_Nothing happened._

_In the moment of nothingness, the Light slowly began to spiral away and her concentration faltered. The blazing fire within her veins disappeared and she wept inwardly, knowing she had lost herself again. In the aftermath of such loss, there was little left except her diminished soul._

Maerad opened her eyes and tried to blink away the black spots. Her head was humming, and it took a few seconds before her vision focused enough to see her surroundings. Her brown hair was matted and stuck to her cheek but she didn't notice. There was too much pain and joy at the realization that she was still alive to care about her appearance.

The chamber was familiar, despite her confused perceptions, and it seemed like a dream. From the ceiling hung a silver lamp shaped like a lily, diffusing a gentle light. The walls were pale yellow, and comfortable chairs were heaped high with dark red cushions around the huge fireplace. Through her hazy vision, she noted the musical instruments stacked casually against the walls and furniture. She blinked again in wonder. _I am alive._

Her eyes came to rest upon Cadvan, who was on the floor near her. A pained expression was spread across his shadowed face. "Cadvan," she whispered. Apparently her nightmare wasn't over.

He spoke up through gritted teeth. "A healer is on the way, thank the Light." He moved to his knees and stood, sending an uneasy glare at Maerad who watched him helplessly from the couch. She didn't comprehend the reason why he had done this. _Had she attacked him?_

"Please don't try that again, at least for my sake."

"I'm s-sorry." Her voice was slurred. Judging from Cadvan's stance, he definitely wasn't thankful for whatever he had received. The door creaked open behind her and she was granted no time to contemplate her actions further.

"My apologies for taking so long."

Maerad did not recognize the man next to Malgorn. He was tall, perhaps a few inches shorter than Cadvan. Written on his face was a lifetime's work of caring for sick and injured patients. He removed his weathered cloak, laying it on the back of a chair whilst he wiped his feet.

"Nendir, thank the light," Silvia said.

He nodded a quick welcome, and hurried to Maerad's side. "What happened to you, my dear?" His deep-set eyes roamed across her pale face and down to her feet. He reached out to examine Maerad's arm, his fingers probing the broken flesh. It didn't take long for Maerad to grow uneasy.

"Please--" Maerad started. Cadvan held her down.

_"I promise this won't hurt."_

"Don't--"

_"Just relax...it will be a much better experience, trust me."_

"Don't touch me!" she hurled him away. "Please..." She was terrified by the shocked expressions of Cadvan and Nendir. Her strength waned with each word that poured from her lips. "Just leave me be."

Nendir sent an uneasy glance at Cadvan. His eyes seemed to twitch with worry. "Your arm is broken. You are ill and I'm most certain your ankle isn't in great condition. You will be in considerable torment if-"

"I have already felt much pain," she cut in.

"You're as white as a ghost," said Malgorn. His voice was unusually harsh. "And I did not travel through _that_ mess to have you refuse the attention you _need._"

Cadvan was leaning towards her, holding a small glass full of a golden liquid. "Drink."

Maerad conceded. The drink went down her throat like a smooth flame, burning her palate. She was choked as an after-taste glowed in her mouth like a soft explosion of fruit. Warmth thrilled through her body, all the way down to her toes, and for a second she wondered if she was about to be sick. Even feeling as she was, she couldn't have stood the added humiliation; but then it passed and fatigue took hold of her senses. The pain had lessened.

Nendir hesitantly stepped towards her. He observed her arm with a critical eye before reaching into his pack to find a wooden splint. "Maerad, I will not be able to help you to the best of my abilities tonight, I'm afraid. I had no time to grab the proper instruments or to prepare myself for finding you in such a state. However, I _can_ stabilize you until the morning."

Maerad swallowed hard. She remembered the agony of those in the Healing Houses after Innail was besieged by the Landrost. It had been horrifying; and now she was in that same position of frailty. Cadvan stepped forward and offered her a second dose. "Another."

"Wh-what-"

"_Laradhel_. It will dull your senses." Cadvan's voice was even, and showed no sign of panic or worry.

The liquor was much different than the harsh vodka that Gilman's men drank. It was soothing and reduced the throbbing in her arm. Nendir aligned the splint properly against her skin, taking a deep breath as he did so.

"_Linara lach ebansor." _With a flash of Magery, Maerad felt the misplaced bone shift into place, the muscles clenching under pressure. She wanted to scream but found her vocal cords unresponsive. She bit down on her lip hard. She could feel the Magic rushing through her body, a humming that reminded her of a nest of angry bees. It would only be a matter of time until it ran out and the bone would revert back to its previous state; until she felt the full brunt of the pain. Nendir had to work quickly.

Cadvan met her panicked gaze and held it. "_I nan e sieathan la, Maerad. Benith ilien." _The powerful words floated across her mind and distracted her from Nendir's ministrations. "You have much courage, Maerad. It is almost over."

Nendir wrapped another strip of tan material tightly around her inflamed ankle. He took several cushions from the nearby chairs and elevated it above her hip. "I should expect to see you again in the morning," he said, grabbing his things. "Make sure she keeps both injuries iced but keep her body warm."

"Will she be all right?" Silvia questioned. Her face was stricken with concern.

"I'm quite sure she'll survive," said Nendir. He reached over and pressed his hand hard over her brow. He mumbled something in the Speech that Maerad did not catch. The ringing in her ears droned out his voice as he spoke in Annaren, "Note any changes that occur."

"Thank you Nendir," Cadvan said. "We owe you many thanks."

The healer took a moment to discuss her status out of earshot. Maerad felt nauseous, and had no desire to listen to what he might say. She was much too tired and sore. Finally, he bade them goodnight. When the cold air from the door reached her, she felt the ice reach into her lungs to try to suffocate her. Malgorn responded by heaping the fire with more wood.

Maerad hated the idea of being so vulnerable before her friends, especially Cadvan, but knowing that she couldn't escape made the situation worse. Quite suddenly, she felt an overpowering sense of suffocation, as if she were enclosed in a very small space like a coffin, and her eyesight went dark. She rested her eyes to assuage the sensation while Silvia found a towel to wash her face with. The cloth burned whenever it touched one of the numerous bruises, but she was glad to be rid of the soiled feeling. She was eternally grateful that Silvia gently worked away the caked blood from her mouth - she didn't know if she could stand another moment of its harsh, metallic taste. If she had the strength, Maerad would've ran to the bathhouse and stayed there for weeks, scrubbing herself raw.

"What caused all this?" Silvia asked softly.

Maerad winced as if someone had jabbed her in the stomach. She couldn't bear the eye contact with Cadvan and was glad Silvia was still cleaning the blood from her mouth. "I-I...j-just fell off Imi."

Silvia clicked her tongue, and Maerad could tell she wanted to hug her but did not dare. Instead, she rubbed her forehead soothingly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But take heart! Even the most experienced rider in all of Annar would have difficulty riding in that weather."

"Where is Im-" she tried to speak, but the words died in her throat.

"Imi is safe; _you're _safe now. Sleep, Maerad. The _Laradhel_ will keep the hurting to a minimum." Maerad nodded slightly, closing her eyes.

Cadvan knew Maerad. She wouldn't just fall off her horse, regardless of what conditions she was confronted with. _She's hiding something, _he thought to himself_. _He let out a deep breath and laid his calloused hand on her shoulder. Whatever had happened, he was thankful she was still alive, and that she had finally returned. "I'm glad you're all right, Maerad."

She mumbled something incomprehensible in response. Her eyes grew heavy and before he knew it, Maerad was asleep. Cadvan looked at Silvia - the woman looked frightened, like a deer who sensed danger but didn't know how to act. Her kind eyes were moist, and he knew she was on the verge of tears.

"She's safe, Silvia. She made it home. I refuse to let her get worse." He tried to comfort both himself and Silvia with the words. He wasn't sure what Malgorn thought of the situation - the man stood pensive and silent nearby.

"I just can't believe what has happened." Her voice with choked with emotion and Malgorn reached out to take her hand.

Cadvan nodded - he knew Maerad hadn't told the whole truth. "Neither can I."


	3. Chapter 3

"I will stay with Maerad," Silvia said finally. "It's nearly dawn, and you both look pitiful." She poured the men glasses of Laradhel from the glass bottle, emptying what was left, and took a seat near Maerad. She said nothing more. Cadvan drank his share of the liquor quickly and rubbed his face - dark circles had formed under his blue eyes, and his skin looked and felt grey with exhaustion. The drink helped, offering his body a much needed rush of energy that swelled in his veins; gave him just enough to refuse Silvia's choice. "I will keep watch tonight. Go and rest," he insisted. "It is something I shall not find tonight."

"He's as stubborn as a mule." Malgorn sighed, scratching the stubble on his chin. "He wouldn't leave even if he wanted to. It's that same stubbornness I mentioned earlier."

"Cadvan - you are worrying yourself to death! Please, I'll stay with her. You need sleep to collect your thoughts," said Silvia. The woman was clearly worried about him.

Unable to pry himself from Maerad's side, he shook his head. "I'll be fine," he assured. "I promise."

Silvia nodded reluctantly, taking Cadvan's hand. "There is more Laradhel in the storeroom. If you need anything else, _anything _at all, Malgorn and I will be down the hall in our room. You know where to find us." Together, she and Malgorn exited the room hesitantly, leaving Cadvan to ponder the situation.

A few hours later found Cadvan frowning into the blazing fire. He glanced at Maerad, who had lain quiet on the sofa, undisturbed, her quiet breathing something he had concentrated on to keep himself awake. One leg was curled underneath her lithe body while the other remained outstretched on the bulky cushions. Much to his surprise, she had remained asleep after downing the third dose of _Laradhel_, an unusual occurrence given the many times she had used it while traveling with him.

Hearing a mumble of protest roused him from speculation. "I'm so cold." Maerad's voice shook.

Cadvan crossed the room in long strides, doling more wood into the fireplace to quench its insatiable hunger. As he drew away, he found another thick blanket, set aside for him, and gave it to her. To his chagrin, he could still see the coldness of her face without even touching it; she still wasn't warming up fast enough.

"It is all I have," he whispered apologetically. "Will you be alright?"

Maerad grew quiet as her eyes fluttered open. "I think so." She groaned, transferring her weight, and taking it as a cue, he helped her sit up.

"Drink some more of this," he urged. He held up a mug of Laradhel.

She parted her lips and drank it gratefully, nearly choking when the intense moisture hit her dry mouth. "All I want to do is sleep," she admitted and stared away from him. "I'm so tired."

"You're exhausted. Sleep as long as you wish; no one will bother you. You have my word."

Maerad frowned at his comment. "Isn't it easy to promise something?" Her thoughts drifted to the man's harsh voice and his rough breathing. Her stomach heaved in rebuke. _Cadvan was capable of the same thing._

He blinked at her response. "For some it is, but I give no word I cannot keep. You know that, Maerad."

"Is that so true?" she then asked, wishing him to leave her alone. She wanted it more than anything. "For didn't you once promise to love someone, only to murder them?" Tears began to well in her eyes. Why had she lashed out at her only friend, someone who cared for her?

He sat resolute against her attack, his jaw clenching only briefly as he sought for words. "Of all the people who insist on indulging in my dark past, why must you?" he asked. She could see the hurt in his eyes. "Have I wronged you?"

Maerad looked away in shame. She wished she hadn't hurt him. The Light knew he was the only one she couldn't bear to live without, but regardless of the guilt, she couldn't take the words back. They were suspended over her head, adding to the already heavy burden within her heart.

Cadvan bit his tongue and excused himself. "I'll be back shortly."

She had expected that reaction; she knew he would leave. But it did not worry her, for he would return to guard her after she fell back asleep. In the ghost of his presence, she whispered an apology before drifting off, cursing herself for treating him so badly.

* * *

The following morning, Maerad ate little breakfast in spite of Silvia's encouragement. Food would not solve the unrest in her soul. Nothing would. "You must eat, Maerad." Silvia handed her a bread roll. "You look as if you haven't eaten in months!"

Maerad refused. "I'm fine."

"Maerad, you are nothing but skin and bones. Eat something," Cadvan said. Had it not been for the genuine concern in his vocie, she would have rebuffed his attempt. She grabbed the bun and picked at it much to Silvia's enjoyment.

"I suppose Cadvan just has the right way of saying things," Malgorn shrugged. "I wouldn't take it too personal, love." He smiled at Silvia. Maerad rolled her eyes. _Cadvan's always right._

"I should head to the infirmary." Maerad sighed and dropped the half eaten food onto her plate. "Though how I am supposed to do that escapes me."

"I'll accompany you." A momentary twinge of uneasiness traveled through her body as Cadvan helped her stand. It lessened somewhat when he drew away. "Silvia found you a new cloak, much heavier than the one you had been wearing." He wrapped it around her shoulders, and shut the clasp in the front. Maerad smiled slightly; it was much warmer, and she enjoyed the clean feeling that it carried. She braced herself when Cadvan opened the door. "Ready?" he asked.

"As much as I will be," she replied.

The storm had grown placid in the wee hours of the night. In its wake was a blanket of crisp snow. Maerad shuddered at the wind tickling her face. It brought back many troubles of the previous night that she did not enjoy. Cadvan had tried to distract her though, pursuing conversations about ancient lore, but she remained silent as they crossed the square. He brought her into the house across the street. "It will take longer," he told her, "but at least we won't be outside."

o-0-o

The Healing Houses were alive with people bustling about. Maerad was somewhat shocked by the onslaught of questioning, especially from strangers; she had only just arrived. "We've heard about your accident. Thank the Light you haven't been permanently hurt." Others were not so courteous. Many glared at her from across the room, whispering to one another. "A_ll this fuss about her falling off a horse doesn't make sense,"_she overheard an elderly woman say. She tried to ignore the gossip, gripping Cadvan's arm tighter as they approached a series of side doors. Cadvan ushered her through one of them, and crossed his arms.

"Bards are an odd bunch - I can't believe word of your arrival has traveled so fast." In another circumstance, Maerad would've laughed, for what he said was true, but she didn't want her quiet retreat to be interrupted. She had heard enough conversation on the way.

The Healer slowly opened the door and smiled. "Feeling a bit better?"

Maerad lied. "Yes." The unconvinced look that crossed Cadvan's face barely affected her resolve.

"That's an improvement." He took several tools from a nearby drawer and placed them on a tray. "Did she sleep at all?"

"Yes, much more than I had expected," Cadvan answered.

For a few seconds, both Bards stopped and examined her dispassionately, as if she were a piece of sculpture. Maerad shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. Cadvan released her from the unwelcome attention by stepping forward and taking her hand, squeezing it in encouragement.

"Let's begin then, shall we?" Nendir asked.

Maerad pulled her hand from Cadvan's. She didn't want him to bear witness to her examination.

"I'll be waiting outside," he said, giving her a faint, comforting smile before stepping out.

Leaning back onto the table, Maerad felt ashamed. That she had come to be in yet another position of vulnerability so quickly left her incredulous. She began to shake at the touch of his cold hands, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She ignored the probing instruments in a vague effort to conceal her humiliation. She was not here; this moment was not real.

_Falling to the ground, she felt something in her ankle snap. The wood floor was as unforgiving as the man who had forced them together._

_"Get up!" he demanded, pulling her hair; she coughed hard, her lungs heaving in objection to his rough treatment. "Now…" he he said, grinning, "Kneel."_

"Please," she sobbed, waking into reality once more. "I can't do this."

The doctor turned to face her. "I've completed your exam." He eyed her with suspicion. "I have a few questions for you."

Shaking her head, Maerad covered herself. "I don't feel like answering anything," she confessed. Her lips were trembling.

"I'm afraid if you don't answer, I must ask Cadvan," he disclosed, waiting for a response. Maerad thought it to be a trick, but being completely ignorant of Bardic culture, she didn't want to take the risk.

Maerad stiffened. "I fell off my horse."

Nendir studied her a few moments. "How?"

"What do you mean _how?"_ she asked irritably. "The storm was furious..I- I couldn't see!"

"Then why do you have so many bruises?" he continued to prod. "You certainly don't act like you just fell off your horse."

Stunned by what the man might know, she bowed her head in displeasure. She wouldn't admit the truth, so she didn't respond.

"I'll leave you here while I go talk with Cadvan." The man stood, and left, giving her privacy. Tears prickled in her eyes, but she fought them back. She was much too stubborn to cry- too many people would see her reddened eyes. If it hadn't been for her friends, she wouldn't have even gone to the Healer. It was just as easy to stay in the Bardhouse and rest.


	4. Chapter 4

_I shall carry your heart with me_

_I'll never be without it_

_No other fate I wish for_

_No world, or moon, or star_

_Nor whatever the sun will bring_

_Wherever you go, I will never be far_

_I shall heal your wounded heart_

_I'll never let you bleed_

_No other thing shall hurt you_

_No world or moon or star_

_Nor whatever you say to hurt me:_

_For I carry your heart_

_-_

Nendir found Cadvan and pulled him aside. The men caught the attention of several Bards waiting in the main foyer, who listened eagerly for news on Maerad's condition. "I think you need to talk with her," he said quietly so the other Bards couldn't hear.

Cadvan swallowed. "What have you found out?"

"Her injuries are substantial, but she would not tell me how she managed to fall. I'm very relieved to find no head trauma to accompany her other wounds." Nendir minded his wording, affording Cadvan no relief as he evaded further clarification. "I would like to see her in a few days. In the meantime, make sure she drinks this once in the morning and once at night," he finished, handing him a bottle.

"What is this?" Cadvan asked curiously, eyeing the clear liquid. "I've never seen it before."

"_Edhel_. It will calm her nerves and keep swelling to a minimum," Nendir said firmly. "Make sure she takes it."

Cadvan's mouth thinned. He watched Nendir write something on a sheet of parchment."Will she be alright?"

"Only time will tell," he responded, setting the quill aside. He folded the paper up and tucked it into his robes. "Forgive me - I must tend to my other patients."

"A blessing on your house, Nendir," Cadvan replied courteously, ignoring the frustration consuming him. _At least he has medicine that will help her._ In his opinion, it was a good first step. Sooner or later, he would have to talk to Maerad about her fall, for it seemed to him it was no accident.

o-0-o

He didn't speak to Maerad before dinner, fearing that further questioning would add unnecessary stress to her already fragile state. He felt guilty when he noticed her untouched plate still heaped with food; he knew she had to be hungry.

"You're as skinny as a whip!" Silvia exclaimed, piling more food onto her plate. Maerad forced a dim smile.

"Anyone would be that thin after what she's been through, Silvia. Leave the poor girl, alone," Malgorn said.

Cadvan noted the growing tension and cleared his throat. "It is a rare thing indeed, that your beauty does not fade with the desicion not to eat... surely that is something to be grateful for." He hadn't lied - she was still very beautiful, but he had noticed a drastic change. Her face had lost its healthy glow, and he imagined he could see the faint outline of her skull.

"I'm just not hungry," Maerad refuted. The smell of the once delicious fare made her grimace and she dropped the fork in disgust. Eating was the last thing she considered important. "I'll eat later."

"When such a feast is prepared? I should think not!" A laugh of delight filled the room, and for a moment, Maerad thought Dernhil would appear. It sounded like his voice, pleasant, and full of amusement, but she didn't dare to turn. The thought of Dernhil made her weep inwardly; she knew it was not him.

"Anhil?" Cadvan asked. Maerad opened her eyes; Anhil was his brother.

"It has been long since I've seen your face!" the dark haired man crossed the expanse.

Cadvan embraced the Bard. "Too long, old friend. It does my heart good to see you."

"I see you've managed to escape the wiles of death, again" Anhil noted more seriously. "It filled me with grief when Saliman informed me that you had passed beyond The Gates. To find you alive and well brings me much needed comfort."

"Had it not been for Maerad, I would've died," Cadvan said.

"So I've heard, young mage," Anhil said to Maerad with a grin. "Stories of your victories will be sung for the next age!" His gaze roamed over her injuries, and Maerad shifted uneasily.

"What brings you here?" Malgorn interrupted his puzzlement. "A Bard of Gent should at least send word before arriving!" He chuckled. "Especially with the storm that has lingered overhead."

"Ah, the beauty of the First Circle. I've come for the Meet of course," Anhil answered, devoting his full attention to Silvia and Malgorn. "Have I offended you, that I should not receive an invitation from your School?" he joked.

Maerad watched Anhil speak, enchanted by his voice. He seemed too regal, unchanged by the events of the war and the loss of his sibling for her to comprehend. Seeing his face reminded her of Ossin, where she had met Lyla; the girl had been quite taken with Anhil. She wondered silently if she was still alive and well. Had it not been for her kindness, Maerad would have been without hope in her many days of travel. Save for Cadvan, she had no other close friend, and it warmed her to know she could always find welcoming arms there.

"Finally a smile," Cadvan remarked softly.

"It does me good to see an old acquaintance," she confessed, shaken from her introspection. "At first I thought-" she began, but stopped herself.

"I had hoped to meet up with Anhil again. It's strange how our fates are intertwined." Cadvan sighed as he took a seat near her. "He is much like his brother."

Maerad grew awkward. Thinking of Dernhil, the first man to have admitted _love _for her, to have _kissed_ her, brought back a grief she was not ready to cope with. And with this old memory brought a fresh one, one she did not ever wish to remember. "He is."

Cadvan looked at her intently. "Have I offended you? I know it is difficult to speak of darker times."

"No, I- I was just thinking," she replied.

"I've done quite a bit of thinking myself," he confessed. "Maerad, I am not sure what happened the other night when I found you. If something serious happened, someone must know, Maerad. For the good of you and those who love you."

She grit her teeth. "Love will do me no good if I know not what it is."

"Are you so certain?" Cadvan asked, leaning towards her. "For in your time away, have you learned nothing of the Ways of the Heart?"

A frown crossed her face and she stood up. "I have learned enough to know of its evil." Talking to Cadvan about love always made her uncomfortable. "I should go and rest."

"Do you need me to help you to your bedroom?" Cadvan inquired. He did not question her need to leave despite the frustration growing in his mind. What did she mean _its evil ways?_

"You can't carry me around forever," Maerad answered softly. "But thank you."

Cadvan felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment; her pride was much too vibrant for such a weakened soul. _"Do not hesitate to call if you need help." H_e bade her goodnight through mind-speech.

"Women." Anhil laughed, taking a sip of wine as she rounded the corner. "You can never figure them out." Cadvan could not have agreed more.

* * *

Maerad had trouble falling asleep that night; she listened to the gentle sound the snow made tumbling off the high roof and often stretched out her hand to touch the contusions that covered her body. Silvia and Cadvan insisted on moving her to a downstairs bedroom where Silvia could hear her if she called out. It was warm and inviting, but she missed the familiarity of the other. Everything here was strange, out of place and, to her faint disapproval, farther from Cadvan. She had never thought of it, but she had slept at ease knowing he would hear anyone before they reached her room. She wasn't so sure Silvia would be as vigilant.

She rolled over, and a sharp pain filled her arm.

_"You are worthless," the man spat. Dazed, Maerad could only make out the outline of his trousers falling to the floor. "I was surprised to find that you, of all people, defeated Sharma. A wench, found by the king of rats, in the mountains...how becoming."_

The memory forced its way into her mind, one that completed the circle of pain that she was surrounded by. "I hate you," she whispered into the dark, seeing the man's figure standing before her.

_She couldn't scream. She could only feel misery rippling through her body as he desecrated her. The searing heat of his breath against her neck, and the vile stench of sweat made her throw up. _

_"Please," she begged._

_"Shut your trap!" he growled, slapping her face. He then muttered a few incantations, the Speech twisted and distorted when it left his mouth._

"I hate you!" she screamed, this time heaving her pillows at the wall. She repeated the phrase furiously over and over again**. **

_He stood before her, drawing closer, hands outstretched to steal her away._

The door flew open. She didn't realize it was Cadvan as he grabbed her flailing arm. "Maerad?" Seeing her confusion made him react quickly. "Maerad, stop."

"Let me go!" She fought against his grip. She continued to hit him, but Cadvan did not relent.

"Maerad," he spoke soothingly, ignoring her protests. "It's me. It's Cadvan."

She pushed against his chest once more in a final attempt to escape her nightmare. "Why?" she whimpered. The tears flowed freely now, staining her reddened face.

"It was a dream, Maerad. Nothing more," he whispered. His chest was sore from the outburst but he didn't hesitate to hold her protectively in his arms.

She teetered back and forth, shielding her face from him. "Why can I not even defend myself? Ever since I lost my Elidhu self, I have been weak...so pathetic," she mumbled. Cadvan momentarily rose from the bedside to find water. He added a bit of _Edhel_ before handing it to her.

"Maerad, you are indeed a riddle, one that I've yet to decipher, but it does not take a scholar to know you are more than capable of defending yourself." He watched as she downed the water in ragged gasps. "Have faith, Maerad. Not all is evil in this world."

Something inside her laughed, but it was not joyful laughter; it was the defiance of someone who faced certain loss, and no longer cared. "You are wrong, Cadvan. I am not as strong as you care to think. I couldn't even fight you off. What does that say about what I've become?"

"Falling off your horse has nothing to do with strength," he reminded her. "And you cannot be expected to fight a man off by strength alone."

_At least he could admit that. _"I didn't fall off Imi," she confessed. The truth in her words stung more than his cool reaction.

"What?" He seemed taken aback by her revelation.

"I cannot tell you," she choked out. "I-you-"

Cadvan brushed the hair away from her eyes. "Shh," he whispered. "You're safe, Maerad. Anything you tell me will remain between the two of us." By the Light, he loved her and wanted to take all her pain away. He wished that whatever caused this would suffer eternally for its crime.

"Nendir must know," she breathed quickly; her words were barely comprehensible.

"Perhaps. He said nothing of your condition to me, though," Cadvan pointed out. He waited patiently for her breathing to calm as he rubbed her back gently. "Maerad, you needn't tell me now. Just know that I fear for you, for your health and safety, as well as everything else that makes you, well, _you_."

Maerad didn't hesitate in her answer. "Are you leaving?"

The unseen plea in her voice made Cadvan smile lightly. "You need rest."

"Wait until I fall asleep," she begged. "You.. can..w-wait in the chair beside me." Maerad still feared him but she would gladly choose his protection over any others, regardless of what he might be capable of. "Please."

Agreeing, he kissed her cheek and took a moment to wipe the tears away. "I'll be here."

His presence quenched her desire to flee as she lay back down. The man was no longer in her mind as she listened to Cadvan sing a soft melody, his voice so low that it charmed her eyelids closed. Exhaustion crept over her body as his song came to an end and Maerad sighed inwardly. _At least he will safeguard me from my nightmares, if nothing else._


	5. Chapter 5

_He toils silent, ever still  
over his ponderous prose  
To air, to wit,  
to blossom there  
Like the budding rose..._

_Cerebral blooms  
which from the light,  
into the vastness long  
To shine upon the  
seedlings there,  
before all hope is gone_

_Oh, song of heart  
with trembling hands,  
you pluck the flowers fair  
'tis he who pens with  
orchid stems  
my soul doth render bare._

_~Excerpt from 'The Life of Dernhil of Gent'_

_-_

The nightmares continued to plague Maerad. She awakened from chilling flashbacks each night to find herself uncovered, bathed in sweat and terrified. She couldn't retrieve the blankets tossed about during her unrest, leaving the sweat against her skin to become beads of ice as she waited in complete vulnerability for the man to appear. He never did, nor did she hear anything save the sound of her own sobbing filling the dark room. She was safe but she needed Cadvan - to provide the safety blanket she desperately needed, but she lacked both the courage and energy to bother him. _His room is upstairs. He is exhausted, no doubt irritated by my actions. I do not deserve his help. Nay, I will survive without his assistance._

As Maerad went to close her eyes, she looked at the gilt-framed mirror near the window. The uncanny sensation that the face looking back was not her own but her mother's made her shiver.

"_Mother,"_she whispered. The woman appeared worn and sad, nothing like Maerad remembered her to be. No life flickered behind the blank stare, none of the compassion that Milana had shown before the sacking of Pellinor. Her mother had lost everything: her love, her children, her School...the idea of her mother seeing her child in such destitution made her sick. _"You went through so much more than me. Forgive me for being weak, mother. Forgive me."_Maerad no longer wanted to stay in her chamber.

Daytime brought no relief. She still felt dirty, marred, unworthy of being called a Bard. She contemplated running to the bathhouses but it was impossible. Her injuries trapped her in a never-ending cycle of pain that clung to her skin, as a newborn clings to its mother, and threatened to steal the last ounce of hope she had left: the hope of living. Maerad felt she had no control over any aspect of her life, save the simple task of breathing and even that drained her energy.

Her quandary did not go unnoticed. Silvia, among others, grew increasingly worried. She would not eat, and Cadvan had found her limping into the library late at night. He watched he sit in an ornate chair and stare out the window at the howling wind and dark terrain. She looked ghostly. He never said anything, but in the back of his mind, he slept lightly in case she called.

Maerad didn't regard her friend with thanks or frustration. The sensation of death's gaze upon her rendered her blind against her dimishing health. It was the same feeling of lifelessness and isolation that had afflicted her journey through the Hutmoors: a tingling, rope-like agitation that wore away at her innards, tugging and twisting its way through every last fiber. _The releasing of the Treesong saved my life, but what will steal this pain away now that it is free? Is there no hope of escaping this torment?_

Maerad opened her eyes to find herself in the library, now illuminated by carefully shaded candle-lanterns. Towers of books decorated every surface, and she imagined the expanse filled with many Bards, playing music and laughing amongst themselves. _I will never be normal now, _she thought morbidly. _I will never be able to trust in men, nor will I laugh amongst friends. The all view me as an outcast. I am an outcast. _She swallowed a moan of despair and closed her eyes against the resurgence of tears. Even against the terrible odds she faced defeating Sharma, she never lost trust in herself. She had kept her undying hopes that one day, she would be free of fear's oppression. But now - now she thought twice about that hope.

_"__Trust is a double-edged blade and can invite unwisdom," Silvia said._

Cadvan trusted that she would never lie to him, but she had. She was breaking the trust of her best friend because she wasn't strong enough to admit she had been raped, that she had so foolishly put her trust in Adian...

"_Lying is not the same thing as speaking the truth_," Arkan had told her. "_Humans lie, because they think that language can give them another reality. And then out of their lies they make that reality."_

The memory of his icy voice sent chills down her spine. _What if I hadn't left his palace? If I had agreed to stay, would I still have my Elidhu powers, and be whole? _She watched the snow batter the windows._ Would I understand love more than I do now?_

_"Love is why the darkness blossomed into light. Love is what is needed to make the Song." _It hurt to listen, but she couldn't halt the words from coming. And from the feel of the mind-voice and that of her own heart, she knew she had made the right decision to leave Arkan-da. The Elidhu had taught her much of the ways of the heart, but he could never offer her the love she desired: the warm, human love needed to play the Treesong. The love that came from within herself, from her brother Hem, from her friends, not the Elidhu. She lost the compassion for herself, but a voice deep within the recesses of her mind told her, _"you must learn to trust and love in order to heal."_

The tears welling in her eyes fell as briefly as a bird's wing eclipses the sun; the door opened softly and closed again, and she felt a new presence in the room with her. She froze for a moment, then sighed as if in sleep. She turned onto her side, hiding her face away from the light and the intruder.

"What are you doing up so late?" the gentle voice asked. "And so far from your room?"

"I couldn't sleep," she murmured. It faintly surprised her that Anhil rather than Cadvan walked towards her. In all her nightly wanderings, it had always been Cadvan who'd found her and carried her back to her bedroom.

"Neither could I. Being in Innail brings back many fond memories that leave my heart raw."

Maerad frowned and turned. Anhil's face was closed and indiscernible. "Because of your brother?" Part of her already knew the answer.

"Aye." He brushed his fingers across a stack of leather-bound books near Maerad. "Reality didn't hit me until I visited his rooms yesterday. It shocked me how empty it is." He flipped through the pages of one and ignored the tears falling from her eyes.

"Have you read any of these poems?" he changed the subject. "They are all quite interesting."

Maerad shook her head. "I haven't the heart to read." The memory of Dernhil's warm smile, his animated eyes as he watched her write made her bite her lip in sadness. "Nor the heart to write."

Anhil laughed lightly and wiped the wetness from his cheeks. "Dernhil wrote me about your quick wit. Surely you desire to learn hasn't faded?"

Maerad winced as if the words bruised her. "I didn't have the time to continue learning. Even after the war, it seems I haven't found the ambition I once had."

"The plight of such evil times is over. Perhaps while I am in Innail I may help teach you? Finish what my brother began?"

Maerad's heart leaped at the opportunity, but her mind cautioned her. She was still weak, and vulnerable. "Perhaps," she answered quietly. "I would like that." Anhil seemed pleased. "But for now, I need to find a way to sleep."

"That is one thing you cannot find in Innail's library," he joked. "Believe me, if that were so, I think many of us would stay here."

Maerad licked her dry lips. "You're right," she said softly. "I suppose I should head back to my room."

Anhil frowned. "It is quite late. Perhaps tomorrow you might meet me here to study? There is a book here of interest I would like to show you."

"I have an appointment with the healer Nendir," she said quickly, and remembered the gathering. "What about the Meet?"

"Ah, the feast is tomorrow, isn't it?" he mumbled. He tore his interest away from the open poetry book and cleared his throat. "When things are not so hectic, I expect to find you here." He walked past her, and he smiled. "I am glad to see you again, Maerad."

Maerad did not respond as he paced briskly down the hallway. He was much like Dernhil, yet in so many ways entirely different. He had an energy about him, a youthful glow that set him aside from all the others she knew so well. Still, there was a hidden shadow within him, one that she was not familiar with and never wished to know. She was glad he left, for it meant she could stay, but she also mourned his sudden departure from the library that had grown eerily silent in his absence.


	6. Chapter 6

_Tree of life you are,_

_Moss of death you are,_

_You are violets with the wind above them_

_You are the luminous moon_

_and the ocean of stars that blanket the sky_

_A child- so high- you are,_

_Behold the beauty of Lady Ardina!_

_~Traditional Annaren poem_

Maerad rested by the fire with a rough, woolen blanket around her narrow shoulders. She slowly spooned down a bowl of hot lamb stew, grateful for the warmth it provided. It was the first proper meal she had eaten since her attack, and it made her wonder how she'd lived so long without adequate nutrition. With her stomach almost full, the sharp edge of hunger lessened, and she was left feeling sated.

The afternoon sun shone brightly through the stained-glass windows of Innail's lounge. The rays danced in arches across her ankles and upwards to her healing face, where they doused her skin in colorful hues. She eyed the intricate patterns that formed Innail's insignia of a horse: on a high stone slab stood the magnificent beast, wearing no bridle, its mane flowing in an unseen wind. Maerad found the craftsmenship breathtaking, and sat in awe that she hadn't noticed them before.

Despite the beautiful scenery and pleasant notions, Maerad was still freezing. The cold seemed to have entered her very marrow: her bones felt as if they were made of ice. She was deeply shaken, knowing more snowfall was on its way; Innail didn't need more snow. At her request, Silvia had found thick amethyst-coloured curtains to cover the windows in her bedchamber; she didn't want to see the storm approaching and stealing the Light.

"How are you feeling?" Cadvan watched her anxiously from the doorway, like a mother watching a child who had passed the crisis of a deathly illness. He hadn't traveled with her to the infirmary, but he had consulted with Nendir afterwards.

_"I'm surprised at how quickly she is healing, given her condition; she is lucky to be alive. I have made arrangements to discuss this further with Silvia, as it bears a nature outside your knowledge," Nendir explained. "Perhaps then we can figure out the best course of action."_

Cadvan didn't like the dismissal he'd been given. Maerad was his best friend; he hadn't been closer to any other after Ceredin's death, and what Nendir had said concerning her status explained nothing. _Yes, she was healing, but how had she received the wounds in the first place? And course of action? What course of action?_ The lack of knowledge angered him, but decided against talking to Maerad about it - he had faith that she would tell him in her own time.

Maerad finished the last of her meal and stood up shakily to put the empty dish on the polished table. "I'm deathly tired." She turned to Cadvan. "Even the _Edhel_ doesn't help much."

Cadvan studied her face. "You're a slightly better color," he said. "Before, you looked as if you had no blood in you at all."

A faint smile brushed across her lips. "I don't suppose these bruises will disappear anytime soon. They're not very appealing."

Cadvan pushed himself away from the casing. He made his way towards the fireplace and poked at the hissing wood with the iron rod.

"It could be a lot worse," he said, watching the smoldering ashes gather their energy and catch on a piece of maple that burst into flames. "The bruises will fade with time. You could have a scar like I do."

Maerad watched Cadvan trace a finger across the white marks under his eye. She remembered the Hull's cold hatred, the leather thongs cracking as they sank into his face. The helplessness she had felt watching him fall to the ground covered in blood…she was stronger now, and had she known the innate strength she possessed, she would've made the Hull suffer rather than die a quick death.

Cadvan turned towards her, and she withdrew from her musing. A smudge of soot soiled his face where his finger had been. She guessed he wasn't aware of it, and it made her laugh for the first time in weeks.

"Your face," she said, smiling, and gestured with her free hand.

Cadvan didn't understand. He raised an eyebrow in questioning.

"You have soot on your face."

He noticed Maerad's smile and he mirrored it. He tried in vain to wipe it away, but he only managed to spread it further. "Is it gone?"

Maerad laughed. "Come here."

Cadvan sent her a quizzical glance, before joining her at the small table. She wondered what had given her the urge to laugh, and how the idea had survived. The news Nendir had given her was grim, and was no joking matter; however, the fact that Cadvan hadn't asked about it made her more relaxed in his presence. Their relationship felt natural, like it used to before anything had happened, and she didn't want even the faint joy that had crept back to abandon her. She licked her finger and pressed it to his cheek, nearly laughing again.

"I feel like a mother doing this," she joked. His soft eyes hardened, and Maerad was forced to shift away under his heavy gaze.

"I should like to think not," he said quietly. Maerad wasn't sure what prompted his sudden mood change. With his vision cast downwards, he continued speaking. "Tonight, there will be a feast for the Bards who've arrived from the Seven Kingdoms. I'm hoping you won't be too full to eat a good meal again."

It had been a close call, perhaps the closest she had ever had, and the aftershocks ran through her in fits of shivering. In her mind's eye, Maerad imagined that Cadvan knew something, but hadn't spoken of it. He had gone to see Nendir, no doubt about her condition, and it worried her. _What if he did know? _The fact that he didn't build on his comment allowed Maerad to think clearly. "I'll try my best," she said breathlessly.

"Good," he smiled. "Go get some rest. I'll send Silvia to help you clean up before dinner."

o-0-o

* * *

o-0-o

Silvia and Maerad slowly crossed the courtyard and passed down several streets of houses very like Malgorn and Silvia's, which led to a huge, flagged circle. From outside the walls, Maerad could smell the rising breads, the meats roasting on long spits above the fireplace, and it made her stomach twitch with sudden hunger.

"Cadvan told me you actually ate something of worth earlier. That is wonderful news, Maerad!" Silvia said, taking her hand. She was careful to walk slowly enough for Maerad to keep up.

"I wasn't feeling well. I guess part of it was just being hungry," she answered simply.

Silvia grew silent for a few moments. "Have you been sleeping any better? Do you like your new room?"

Maerad swallowed hard. She looked at her deformed hand in Silvia's and flushed with embarrassment; it always threw her off guard to see the empty space where her fingers should've been. Silvia smiled and Maerad automatically straightened her back and ignored it.

"I cannot sleep at night. Because of my nightmares, I often find myself visiting the library. Has Anhil talked with you? He offered to teach me while he is here."

Silvia nodded. "He has. He seems rather excited about the opportunity. It's good that you are continuing your learning, just as a young Bard should," she added in comforting tones.

Silvia hugged her tight when they reached the doors. She observed the long sleeved dress she had given to Maerad and her newly plaited hair with a critical eye. "You are a beautiful young woman, Maerad. Any man in that room should be ashamed if he thinks otherwise."

Maerad shook her head. "I could look a lot better than I do now."

Silvia gingerly kissed each of Maerad's cheeks. "Let us continue our conversation after our meal. Would you like me to sit next to you, in case you grow weary?"

Maerad shook her head. "I'll be fine."

o-0-o

The number of people bustling about the Great Hall was intimidating. Maerad recognized a few solemn faces from the first Meet she had attended in Innail. They were seated at the austere wooden tables that ran the length of the room. In the center of each table were glass decanters of water and goblets and huge silver centerpieces. Simple white dishes piled high with steaming vegetables and meats filled the air with a heavy aroma that added to her overwhelmed senses.

A few Bards looked up from their places with shocked expressions upon seeing the savior of the Light, while others whispered in secret to one another. Maerad felt a stroke of fear brush across her features as Silvia left her side. It was a blend of both relief and discomfort when Cadvan stood and joined her.

Maerad felt a change in the atmosphere. She thought perhaps it was her own heavy spirits, but when she mentioned it to Cadvan, he agreed. It seemed as if the Bards had already begun conferring about her appearance, even more so as Cadvan gently took her arm. Her stomach lurched with nerves as the other Bards stood up and waited for them to be seated.

_"They are surprised by your victory,"_ Cadvan's voice touched her mind. _"Do not be fooled by their expressions; they are honored by your presence here."_

It didn't take long for Cadvan to usher her to a comfortable seat between him and another Bard she was not familiar with. The man had a long face that Maerad instantly decided she didn't like; in front of her sat Anhil with his usual pleasant visage. She managed a smile before Cadvan touched her wrist.

"I hope you are prepared for a good meal."

His confidence lightened her mood a bit, but Maerad still felt the edge of panic rising within her. Cadvan collected food from each dish for her, while she met the cold, blue-eyed gaze of Helgar who sat a few chairs down. She winced momentarily as she felt a presence brush across her conscious; it was withdrawn quickly as Cadvan set the plate down.

"Look at the mushrooms, Maerad! I have been more than generous and given you my share," he laughed.

"I should hope that your share is bigger than that, Cadvan," Anhil teased. "There is enough food here to feed all the people in Annar and twice more!"

The noisy hall quieted as Malgorn lifted his cup, others around her doing the same. Maerad tried, but couldn't grip the goblet well with her left hand. She didn't want to try with her right; it was too sore. She flushed inembarrassment, and watched the others exchange glances.

"We have all gathered here in celebration, in hopes that our Schools will once again join together in peace, that we may all begin living without fear."

Cadvan noted Maerad's crimson face, and took her hand. She didn't pull away from him, but rather squeezed tightly. Malgorn kept speaking.

"Alliances shall be forged; old friendships renewed. In these waking months after the demise of Sharma, I think we find our hearts indebted to one special Bard, without whom, we would all be subjected to death's grip." His dark eyes met Maerad's. "Thank you, Maerad of Pellinor, for all that you have done. We wish you nothing but peace and comfort for the rest of your life."

The noise of creaking chairs filled her senses and the hall grew silent. Innumerable eyes fell upon her and Maerad didn't know how to react. She was stunned, and had it not been for Silvia's quick reaction, she would've passed out in cold fear.

"Let us eat!" Silvia announced.

The Bards toasted to her health and began their meals. With much relief, Maerad eyed the roasted chicken, the herbed vegetables, and the nuts heaped on her dish. She picked up her fork and jabbed it into her food. Cadvan was speaking with Anhil, but their voices were drowned out by the increasing hum of magery.

"Maerad!"

She didn't recognize the voice, and it took her a moment to realize that it was Helgar's. "I have heard the news! Congratulations to both of you!" The woman's voice was filled with mock sincerity. Maerad felt like vomiting.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about," Maerad replied when she regained her composure.

"Well surely you do, Maerad. Aren't you-"

"That's enough," Cadvan broke in. His stern voice startled her; Maerad hadn't been aware of that he was listening. "Maerad has been through quite a lot in these past months, and I'm quite sure she doesn't want further questioning, especially about her personal life."

Anhil looked up from his plate. His dark eyes were filled with questioning as he glanced between her and Cadvan but it was soon replaced with a smile.

"I've heard Maeard is a wonderful learner," he spoke up after he finished chewing. She was surprised by the sudden change in conversation. "It seems like she could be quite a fine poet one day."

Cadvan squeezed her hand in reassurance. "No doubt! I knew she would be one of the smartest; perhaps even more so than us?" He smiled. Maerad noticed the hint of annoyance lingering in his voice.

"Are helping to teach her now, Anhil?" A red headed woman chimed in.

"I thought I could help here while I was here, yes," Anhil answered politely.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Might I inquire why?"

Maerad closed her eyes; the room was spinning faster. She hadn't told Cadvan about her plans to learn from Anhil. _What will he think?_

"Can you not fulfill your duties as her mentor, Cadvan?" Helgar added. "Has something of a _personal nature _arisen?"

Maerad witnessed Cadvan's jaw clench. He eyed her for a moment, as if calculating his response. "If Maerad wishes to learn, why would I hinder that? Anhil is just as capable as any other."

Helgar sat back and whispered something to the woman next to her.

"Hmm..." the man next to her stroked his chin. "Might I guess what this personal conflict might be? I have a clue..."

"There are no guesses to be made, Liren. I am still her mentor, as I always have been. You would do well to remember that," Cadvan retorted.

Listening to the exchange, Maerad imagined she could hear the deep reverberation of the Treesong beating against the wooden siding of the building. It taunted her, its heart wrenching plea striking a chord within her. It did not speak in the tongues of men, but rather through a series of emotions; in some strange fashion, Maerad clearly understood its beckoning, its soothingly whisper in her ears. "_I am your home, Elednor. Come home."_

She regarded Cadvan, whose mouth was moving, yet no voice escaped his throat. _Could he hear it?_ She could feel many eyes fixated on her, their piercing gazes burning. The pounding was getting louder. "_Come home. Be rid of this place. Humans will lie. I will not."_

She shut her eyes tightly, and Cadvan's form dissolved from her sight, as did the rest of the hall. She felt herself moving, running faster and harder. Something pulled at her but she shoved it away in her raging fit. She was consumed by the melody, allowing it to lead her away from the rumors, the lies, the speculation, and the angered voices. Waves of notes lifted her pain; her ankle did not hurt, and she could use it. Her arm swung freely at her side, and all ten fingers flexed in her movements.

Maerad was delighted when she found herself outside, amidst the courtyard covered in pure white snow, comparable to fields upon fields of cotton. A myriad of stars painted the night sky in an endless array that stretched far past eternity. Towering trees stood with their skeletons stretching high towards the heavens. She listened intently to the haunting melody of her kin, their ethereal voices echoing through the sleeping forest and across the valley.

Her lips were dry. She had spent all that was left in her thin body grieving for the past and for the moment at hand. She briefly closed her eyes, a soft wind from the west blowing across her face. She lifted the reed to her mouth, hesitating momentarily. She didn't know how she'd found it, but it was only an afterthought. The music came into being naturally, as if it had always existed, and soon music was leaving the flute uncontrollably. The melody drifted and faded into the night, the notes caught high on a breeze that swept away from her. Tears slid down her pale cheeks, and she laughed in defiance; not even death frightened her now.

_"It has been long since you last played for me, daughter."_

Tears continued to slip from Maerad's eyes. It seemed then that the courtyard darkened around her and there appeared a wavering silvery illumination, like from beneath water- Ardina_."Why are you so unhappy child? Did my music not please you?"_

Maerad thought a moment. The ethereal being floating before her with endless patience. "I cannot bear the pain I have had to endure. I am sick of it. They lie- none of them care that I saved their world from disaster!"

The queen's cat-like eyes roamed across Maerad's injuries. She had the wildest face Maerad had ever known; inhuman and fey, amoral and yet beautiful.

_"I can see through your heart, Maerad. It is not wise to carry the weight of such a crime when it is not yours to bear."_

Maerad's heart darkened. "I cannot tell them what happened; they do not understand. I'm here _because_ they don't understand."

_"The Truth-teller knows more than you realize."_

Her heart skipped a beat. "I haven't told him anything."

Ardina laughed, and it seemed the earth laughed with her, for the snow drifts swept up around her in great leaps and her image dimmed. _"Dear child, you speak through your actions, as does he."_

"I don't know what you mean. He doesn't know what I went through, how I had to wait until the man fell asleep to flee from that prison of a building…" The sobs had grown fierce during Maerad's confession.

_"I told you of the downfall of loving a mortal: they all die and wither away. But know this! Cadvan hurts and makes careless mistakes just as you. Look into yourself -I think you will find that he loves you, my daughter."_

"Cadvan does not love me," she answered quietly in denial. "How _could_ he love me?"

Ardina closed her eyes. Maerad could still hear the Treesong, its glorious tune ringing in the crisp night air. _"Be careful of yourself, Elednor, for within you still lies the darkest of foes."_

_"I will not go back in there," _Maerad said with much anger. She didn't care how cold it was outside. "_I would rather die."_

Ardina's hazy form stepped forward. "_What is here and there, Elednor? Are they not the same?" _

_C_onfronted with a riddle, Maerad blinked, and soon her vision darkened. The noises of the landscape began to fade and from some distant place, she heard a voice calling her name. "_Elednor."_


	7. Chapter 7

"_Elednor." _The emphatic voice grew louder, discernible from other murmurings filtering into Maerad's perception. It tugged on her heartstrings, much like the Treesong had before she escaped the Great Hall, yet somehow it was more tangible - a familiar reverberation she had heard in the past, one that always enticed her back from nothingness. The Speech sounded in her consciousness once more, its deep, invigorating tone sending shivers throughout her lifeless body, coaxing her from oblivion. _"Come home."_

"Where...?" she whispered. Undulating shadows filled her hazy vision as she opened her eyes. A figure leaned over her and pressed a gentle hand to her forehead. The bed she was lying on was sizable - large enough to accommodate two fully grown people, cushioned with many goose down blankets. _This is not my bed._ _How did I get here?_

"Is she awake?" she heard Silvia's voice. The person above her moved their hand away and replaced it with a cool washcloth. The material was soothing against her throbbing headache, providing enough relief so that she could visualize where she was. Plain whitewashed walls were stained with golden circles of light shining from the candles scattered about the bedchamber. To her right, a long green sofa adorned with piles of books stood before a fire crackling in the grate. Maerad did not recall ever being here but felt no inclination to leave. It was much more comfortable and forgiving than the last she had been in.

"I think she is waking," a man said quietly. He gently brushed the wisps of hair from her face. "Maerad, are you alright?"

Her eyesight began to sharpen and she looked directly at Cadvan. Beneath his blue eyes were dark shadows, the scars on his cheek shining lividly against his skin. _Had Ardina been correct? _Maerad searched his face for the love the Lady had spoken of, for empathy. He regarded her with eyes haunted and sad, but beneath the surface she could see a burning hatred, a fire waiting for release. He was likely embarrassed that she had fled the meal.

"I..." she sputtered, trying to find the right words. For a moment she rested her eyelids, waiting for the drowsiness to dissipate. "It was you, Cadvan," she said in no more than a whisper.

He nodded slowly, caressing her face. "You fainted. I kept calling you home, but you were so far away. I did not think you would ever answer me."

Silvia appeared by her side, and held a glass of water to Maerad's lips. "Don't ever scare us like that again, Maerad," she chided. "The whole School is in an uproar over what happened!" She clicked her tongue as she removed the dampened cloth and helped Maerad sit up.

Maerad's dry throat felt much better when the water slid down it, but she wasn't able to respond, in part because she wasn't sure exactly what had occurred. _Perhaps I didn't hear the Treesong; it could have been Cadvan's voice mixed with my fears that drove me to leave. _"Could you hear it Cadvan?" she asked.

Cadvan furrowed his brows in puzzlement. "Hear what?"

Maerad leaned her full weight against the pillows to relieve the pain shooting through her. "The Treesong. I followed its melody into the courtyard. It is where I saw Ardina."

An apprehensive expression washed across Cadvan's face. He cocked his head and looked at Silvia. _He doesn't believe me. _Maerad gathered that the two were exchanging words through mindtouch and shifted in the uncomfortable silence. "I'm fine," she said sternly. She didn't want them to think she had lost her mind. She refused to believe that she had imagined the experience. "I know what I saw."

"There is more to this story than meets our eyes, Silvia," Cadvan said eventually. "Perhaps Maerad did see Ardina, in some form or another."

Overwhelming animosity was creeping into Maerad's conscience. Her annoyance was fueled by Silvia and Cadvan's obvious skepticism. She was aware that the older woman didn't have any knowledge of the Elidhu, other than what she and Cadvan had divulged, but she had hoped Silvia would have faith nonetheless. Cadvan, on the other hand, didn't have an excuse; he should have trusted her. Remembering Helgar's condescending remarks made her blood boil even more with anger. _The woman doesn't even know me! What right does she hold to lay judgment on another when her own mind is clouded with idiocy? _Maerad's red cheeks puffed out in a moment in pure indignation.

"I'll leave the two of you to talk while I go make you some _Laradhel,_ dear." Silvia kissed Maerad's maimed hand, signaling she meant no harm. She then turned and sauntered out of the room.

Cadvan remained silent for a time, struggling with a sudden, deep sadness. He loved Maerad, and it hurt that she might have betrayed him with untruth. He studied her from where he sat. Since her attack, Maerad's face had thinned considerably. Her once remarkable blue eyes did not shine as they once had - to him, they almost seemed grey. He found his voice. "What happened?"

Maerad was hesitant to explain, but Cadvan's genuine nature eased her fears. "I- I was listening to the conversation you were having. The room just... started to spin. I swear I could hear the Treesong, Cadvan, and it wouldn't stop its pleading. I found myself running towards its source, and that is where I found Ardina. She told me..."

"I did not mean what happened at dinner," he silenced her gently. "You know what I speak of, Maerad."

Maerad paused, searching his face for an explanation. Cadvan wanted to know the truth, the whole truth; she couldn't lie now. He was a _Truthteller_, capable of seeing past her veneers. She looked away in shame, unable to hold his reflective gaze.

Cadvan mirrored her discomfort and rose to his feet. He paced over to the one of the windows. A maze of stars shone brightly overhead, distant storm clouds haunting the horizon. He knew he had to be mindful of his words, to keep his displeasure in check. Ever since he'd received the parchment from Silvia, he had struggled with his emotions. He wasn't sure what he would say to her.

"When I first found you, I was too worried about your survival that nothing else mattered. I..." He stopped himself. He swallowed the gathering lump in his throat before he continued on. "I don't want to lose you again, Maerad. You have been gone long enough..."

Maerad licked her lips and felt her chest condense at his words. She sent him a silent plea, willing him to stop, to say nothing of his suspicions. "I assumed you'd told the truth to Nendir, but after I realized you hadn't, I surmised you were hiding something. And you were." Bitterness permeated his words. "Nendir gave this to Silvia," he withdrew the letter from his pocket. Maerad looked at it from the bed. She couldn't see the wording, only Cadvan's hand trembling ever so slightly. _Had the Healer told of her assault? _

"Up until tonight, I had gone over every plausible scenario in my mind; I even thought that perhaps you'd fallen in love with Anhil. It certainly explained a few of your…abnormal behaviors."

"You are jealous of Anhil?" Maerad challenged. Frost chilled each word. "In spite of all these _revelations_ you've had, why would you think that?"

Cadvan didn't respond, but Maerad saw an absent registering of respect for her indomitable spirit flash in his eyes. It strengthened her spirit, to know that even though he wouldn't admit it, he recognized how foolish he'd seemed. "You were envious, thinking that I loved Dernhil's brother and not you? I think you will find your assumptions wrong. I am not in love with anybody." She nearly winced- the words held more ice than she had intended.

A strange expression crossed Cadvan's face. He let out a groan of both despair and frustration. "What _am _I suppose to believe, Maerad? How am I to know what is true and what isn't? Everyone's talking because everybody knows something has happened- and they'll guess as to exactly what. Don't you see, Maerad?" Cadvan reasoned earnestly. "It will only get worse. Why did you not tell me? Why did _this _have to tell me?"

"I couldn't tell you!" she said hotly. She surprised herself with the courage she had found to stand up for herself. "I wasn't capable of explaining to you what happened. I didn't want rumors to begin spreading, nor did I want you to think I didn't care for you. Most of all, I didn't think you would believe me! But it's no matter now - you have your answers. Go on, chastise me."

Cadvan released the frustration within him through several deep breaths. He pushed the hair back from his face. _"Il terrin, Maerad. Il kanin_ _el ahmiriea,"_ he said into her mind._ "I'm sorry, Maerad. I want to believe you."_

Her temper ebbed in his confession, but a portion remained. She didn't care anymore that he would know; she just wanted him to understand what she had been through, why she couldn't talk. "I stopped at the Inn, just as you told me to," she began, idly playing with her fingers to distract herself from Cadvan's unnerving silence. "The storm was terrible… I didn't think I would escape."

"So you were injured in the storm? Cyril must have helped you then?" his face relaxed somewhat. Part of him still wondered if what Nendir had written was the whole story.

"No. He was away." She hesitated, remembering the man's ugly smirk when he walked up the staircase, and allowed her to escape. He had probably figured she would be too afraid to tell anyone, to admit what had happened. In her moment of indecision, Maerad realized that letting falsehood reign in truth's place would only lead her to defeat, and the man did not deserve any victory. "There was another at the Inn, one who had been left in charge. His name is Adian." She did not further clarify what had happened after meeting him.

She felt herself trembling, but this time it was not of fear for her attacker. It was a great sense of relief, a heavy burden lifted from her heart by the weight of the words spoken. Maerad no longer felt anxiety, no need to cower; prickling tears welled in her eyes and she shifted her gaze to the floor._ I am stronger than these tears._

"Then it is true?" Cadvan stood dumbfounded, staring at her. She imagined the shock pulsing through his veins at the explanation, the weight of her torment passed onto his shoulders. He threw the paper aside and walked towards her, taking her hands into his. "Look at me," he urged, turning her tear-stained cheek. "Maerad, if I had only known what had happened. I would have killed him without hesitation as soon as you were no longer in danger."

Her heart beat uncontrollably, she felt overly vulnerable, unable to speak. Cadvan gripped her hands harder. "He deserves worse punishment than death."

Maerad continued to weep and he pulled her close, holding her tight. He was careful to avoid her injuries. "Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured, feeling tears forming in his eyes. "By the Light, Maerad, I would not have treated you as I have. Forgive me..."

Frozen by amazement that Cadvan finally knew, Maerad simply sat there in his embrace. Her eyes drifted half shut, and just for a moment she thought of nothing at all. She merely let her senses turn on. The finely woven linen of his shirt was cool and smooth against her cheek. His dark brown hair - long enough to brush his collar - and skin were scented with a strangely comforting combination of sweat and salt. Finally she shrugged him away as if his touch provoked torment. _"Can I be alone for a few moments?" _she rasped.

Aversion was clear in his voice when he agreed, but his face lightened when she surveyed him with red eyes. He kissed both sides of her face and the crown of her head before he untangled his arms from around her and walked to the door. "Silvia will be back soon. Will you tell her what you've told me?" he asked. "She deserves to know the truth, Maerad."

Maerad paused in confusion. "I thought she already knew?" she whispered, looking at the note in Cadvan's hand.

Cadvan followed her gaze and sighed. "Nay, Silvia does not know nor would she. This note speaks of something...quite different." He seemed to ponder something before he folded the note and put it in his pocket. "Get some rest. You are safe here."

As he vanished from sight, Maerad cradled her head in her hands. _What is written on the note if it doesn't speak of my attack? How did Cadvan know what happened? _She began sobbing. Cadvan was outraged, and rightfully so. She had made a mistake, and there was nothing she could do to take it back. Had she known he would've believed her, would have comforted her....

She lay back down, silently collecting herself before her company returned. _I have done it. __I need not fear the unknown._

o-0-o

Adian woke from a deep slumber. From his small apartment, he heard the loud reverberation of a horse's hooves pummeling the ground. "Who would be here at this blasted hour?" he cursed. He didn't need to peek outside the window to know that the horse had been ridden in a full gallop. He silently laughed to himself, remembering the wench that had shown up during the terrible storm. She, too, had been galloping, in a frantic attempt to make it to safety. "Perhaps she has come back for more," he rasped, a wicked grin plastered all over his face. Of course, he hadn't had any visitors since her departure, and just assumed that it was Cyril returning from Desor. Checking his own personal ward, he threw on his clothing.

"Cyril?" Adian called out into the dark. "If that's you, perhaps you shouldn't make such a racket, you fool."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author note: **As always, I have been doing some re-editing on the previous chapters, as well as this one. Nothing wrong with making things better, right? I just wanted to repost this chapter to make sure things are clarified before I post the next chapter. Everything you need to know has been written, folks! If you forget something, it's still written in the previous chapters. On another note, I made some important changes at the end of last chapter, involving the note Cadvan received from Silvia. It's somewhat important, considering it involves the next chapter. So please read it. Thank you._

* * *

Cadvan paced around Innail's library, taking a moment to glare out of one of the lofty windows. Beyond the glass, night blanketed the land. There was no moon and a freezing wind howled- not even the _Lukemoi_, the shimmering swath of stars the Dead were said to walk on their way to the Gates, lit up the sky.

"May the Light curse this weather," Cadvan muttered to himself, turning away.

He detested the thought of another storm- it only emphasized the hopelessness he felt leaving Maerad so vulnerable in his room. He wanted nothing more than to gather her up and hold her safe in his arms, to never let her go. He wanted to confess his own secret- that he loved her- and yet his courage had died away with each word she said. _Maerad will never feel safe enough around me- she will count me as dangerous as all the others who have harmed her._ His eyelid twitched in sudden frustration._ Like_ _those who have violated her…_

His skin prickled as he thought of Maerad's condition, and what she had been through, of what she would go through. He wondered if the dead felt the same sense of loss as they passed through the Gates into an endless void of nothingness, losing all they had lived for in a single moment, and yet not caring. Not caring that they would never feel again. _Every single memory lost, meaningless._He heart ached for those who walked the lonely paths- for Ceredin, Dernhil, and his own family. Maeradhad lost a part of her forever, but she was still alive, for which he was thankful. His other friends had not been so fortunate in their own battles.

"_I couldn't tell you__."_ Maerad's voice resounded in Cadvan's head.

He could feel the muscles in his arms and legs grow tense. The headache that had developed during his conversation with Maerad had worsened.

"_There was another at the Inn, one who had been left in charge. His name is Adian."_

Cadvanfound it difficult to stand there, waiting for patience to return, though he knew it wouldn't. He had to act- do something to relieve the growing stress. He sighed again, trying to summon a bit more of the self-control he'd sustained himself with the whole, filthy day.

_Maerad is safe now. Nothing else matters, _he told himself sternly. He closed his eyes again, and managed to rouse a brief spell of calm. It was quickly dissipated.

He shifted, making the wooden floor creak. He could hear the muffled, distracting noises coming from the dining hall a floor below and several hundred feet away. He could clearly hear laughter. Cadvan bit his lip trying to remember the last time he had laughed, and found he couldn't- nothing good had happened in over a moon.

"Such is my life," he cursed aloud. He had noted the familiar lyre sitting in the corner of the library, and walked over to it. The instrument had been restrung and used recently. Cadvan recognized its fashion with a frown. It was Dernhil's lyre.

"At least there is music," he muttered, trying to be positive. His fingers hovered over the strings but he did not touch them; his respect for Dernhil was too great. Despite his anger, he could feel hot tears prickling in his eyes. _My friend will never again play this lyre, nor will he laugh_. _When he gave his life to defend Maerad and I from Sharma's servants, his music was silenced. _

Cadvan swallowed back the lump in his throat. He refused to succumb to sorrow. "No, there will always be music."

_Will there? When you grow old and your arthritic fingers refuse to curve, what then? What will become of you?_ He looked once more at the lyre in his grasp. His intuition was right- one day, music would betray him for younger hands. His talent would fade, as would his memory. But _love_…love would remain. His love for Maerad would not die away until he took his last breath. The thought strengthened him, and motivated him to act.

He pulled the hood of his black cloak up, trying not to shudder at his reflection in the glass- a specter, pale and indistinct with dark hollows for eyes. He clenched his fists and shook the ominous thoughts from his mind as he strode from the large room towards the stables.

He found Darsor standing lazily beside Imi, who lay on a mound of bedding with each leg wrapped in tight bandaging.

"_Are you better?"_Cadvan asked the horse gently. _"Indik has told me you are not resting often enough."_

"_I really want to walk," _the horse answered sheepishly. "_How is the little one?"_

Cadvan swallowed hard, and began saddling Darsor. "_She has seen brighter days."_

The gray mare snorted loudly. "_Had I seen her attacker, I would have kicked him._"

Darsor remained quiet until Cadvan began leading him from the stable. _"Where are we heading, my friend?"_

"_El kennin a Nenn,"_Cadvan said in the Speech. Darsor seemed to recognize the urgency in Cadvan's voice. "We ride for Nenn."

They entered the courtyard, and the Bard climbed atop his mount. The icy wind caught at his cloak, finding all the openings and cutting right through the heavy wool. He found himself shivering long before he had slipped through Innail's west gate and out into the wilderness. The Meet had allowed many of the School's sentinels to rest and enjoy the festivities, a situation Cadvanwas more than pleased with. The sole guard that watched from above paid little heed to him. Moments later, they were galloping away from the School and its safety, neither looking back in farewell.

The black stallion ran as fast as his long legs would allow. They had abandoned the winding dirt road leading away from the School for rougher terrain, on the basis that it was covered in snow and therefore could not be followed anyway. Darsor maintained the pace Cadvan had set and did not falter when the crusted snow gave way under his hooves.

Veering from the West-leading road led them through Stormont. It was a larger, busier town than Nenn. Cadvan made a passing glance to the Bards bustling to and from _Chequers,_one of the best inns in the valley; one that he and Maerad had visited when they had left Innail for Norloch. _Maerad should've stopped here…Grall would have kept her safe. Had I only known Cyril was absent…_With immense regret for the advice he'd given Maerad, Cadvan clicked his tongue and urged Darsor back to a full gallop.

The passed a crossroad and arrived in Nenn shortly after midnight. The town was sleeping, and it seemed to Darsor that Cadvan was as well, for he didn't move in the saddle.

"_Have you fallen asleep?"_Cadvan heard Darsor ask.

"_I shall find no rest here," _he said absent-mindedly.

"_Why have we come to this place?" _Darsor continued to probe.

"_I have something I must do_," Cadvan silenced him_. _He had no patience for his horse's questioning._ "Wait here."_

Darsor snorted in objection when Cadvan dismounted into the snow. Cadvan approached the buildings; the Inn's sign swung wildly in the wind, the racket loud enough to wake anyone who had the misfortune to be sleeping on the other side of the wall. However, Cadvanknew there were none at the inn save one man.

"_His name is Adian." _Cadvan could still see Maerad trembling before him, tears welling in her eyes.

The image woke an instinctive urge inside of him, one that told him to ignore the unwritten Bardic laws. "_He deserves death. His condition is not one that can be mended. What right does he have to life? The Bards try to serve justice and yet what justice is given to those who have lost something that cannot be returned? None…"_

The voice only made him angrier, his rationale becoming focused rage- he would avenge Maerad, even if it did mean shedding blood. He looked in haste to the outbuildings, where a flickering oil lamp caught his attention. He sent out his Bardic hearing, and could hear footsteps walking across the wooden planking. The air hummed with magery; Cadvan could feel the malcontent, the anger and insanity mingled within it. It solidified his indignation; he didn't think about whether they were his own feelings of hate or another's. He didn't care- Cadvan felt like nothing more than a shell of resentment and pain, bent on a single goal. He couldn't remember his past, why he had come to this place. The more he walked, the more his vision faltered, and yet it didn't affect him. He'd become the physical embodiment of wrath.

The cloaked figure was tacking his horse, rushing around in a frenzy. The wind swirled around wildly, blowing drifts of snow through the opening of the scene sparked a brief flashback in Cadvan's mind- one he was surprised to remember.

"_Don't blame us for that slut's drunkenness…. village scum, the lot of you, tottering along behind Cobbler Cadvan in his borrowed feathers. Well, you can't fool me. I know the ditchborn when I see them."_

Cadvan had forgotten the incident long ago when he was younger- he had gained a friend in Saliman from the exchange, and he knew Lamkil had been ignorant. But the memory made something inside Cadvan collapse, like a bridge under too much weight. He was sick of being treated like scum. He had worked his entire life in the name of the Light, only to be slapped in the face whichever way he turned. _No longer,_ he thought darkly. _I will prove my worth to them._

The man sensed Cadvan's arrival for he turned quickly, and shouted, "Who's there?"

Cadvan felt the prickle of magery in his veins, beating in his heart. He began glowing faintly, the desire to inflict pain stamped on his hard-set face.

"_You are a good man, Cadvan. Don't do this!"_The second memory of Ceredin caused him to halt in surprise. They were the last words spoken between them before he summoned the reverent that had killed her._This man is not worthy of anyone's love,_ he responded to the memory in his mind. _He deserves death._

The man called out once more and Cadvan made an irrevocable decision.

"_Noroch!"_ His deep voice echoed in the night air as a blinding flame of light illuminated the snow-covered earth in its race towards the open barn doors. He watched the man cry out and fall face down near his horse, unmoving.

A victorious evil laughed within him, for finally standing up for what he believed in, for ending the existence of someone he hated more than the guilt he felt for disdaining all that he'd been taught. It was strange- he didn't feel remorse, nor did he feel tainted by the evil he had done. He was neither happy nor sad, and during this period of numbness, he came to stand beside the lifeless body.

Cadvan showed no respect flipping the man over with his boot, only to be horror-struck by what he saw before him.

_It was Cyril._


	9. Chapter 9

_How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner_

_As he bends in still grief._

_In anguish he turns from the laugh of the scorner,_

_And drops to perfection's remembrance a tear._

_When floods of despair down his pale cheeks are streaming,_

_When no hope within his chest is beaming,_

_Or, if lulled for a while, he soon starts from dreaming,_

_And finds torn the ties to affection so dear._

_When shall day dawn on the night of the grave,_

_Or summer succeed to the winter of death?_

_Rest awhile, hapless victim, and the Light will save,_

_The spirit that hath faded away with his last breath._

_The Light will guide you with its infinite power,_

_Where no clouds of fate over forgiveness shall linger._

_Your woe will fade - none shall point a finger,_

_For all your justification lies _

_Within the one they call:_

_The Singer._

_~Excerpt from 'The Journey of the Maid of Innail'_

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

Maerad doubled over and wrapped her thin arms around her legs. Her head throbbed stubbornly with each heartbeat, her ears so sensitive that even the quiet crackling of the fire irritated her. _Why won't it all go away? Why can't I just have a normal life? _She opened her eyes, careful to avoid the bright flame of the oil lamps that dotted the shelves near the bed. _Cadvan knows, _a voice spoke within her mind. _He knows you were raped_. _He knows you lied._

_"What have I become?" _she whispered back. "_I am lost. I have lost myself in this act, this cruel twist of fate that has turned me against my friends." _If it were not for the insistent nausea, Maerad would've hobbled to her own room and barricaded herself there, away from everyone. Away from reality. Away from the truth that had set free a whirlwind of emotions she wasn't ready to confront: anger, pain, betrayal, grief, guilt… "_I am lost. I am lost here without Cadvan. Why did he leave?" _A tear ran in a thin stream down her face. She already knew the answer. _Because you told him to leave. _

She faced the area where Cadvan had stood before the window; she needed something to gaze upon to relieve the tedium of being alone. She could still imagine the shocked expression plastered across his face, still feel his arms trembling ever so slightly when he had held her. His smell - spicy and soothing- mingling with hers. _I was too afraid, _she whispered. _But so was he. _He had been afraid; not of her, but of the consequences her assault would bring. She hadn't understood the love he had for her, how it made rational thinking impossible, how it beguiled him, but now she knew - he had needed the truth. It had been the only gift she could propitiate her lies with and so she offered it willingly. She was tired of seeing him suffer as much as she was. She finally understood: she loved him too much to let that happen.

A knock sounded at the door. "Cadvan? I hope I am not bothering either of you...I wanted to make sure Maerad was all right," a soft, masculine voice asked. It was Anhil.

"Come in," Maerad said quietly.

The rough oaken door creaked opened and the Bard appeared. "Where is Cadvan? Why are you alone?" he rushed to the bedside. His face was stricken was tense with worry as he took her hand. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fine," Maerad assured him; her tone suggested otherwise. "Cadvan left a few minutes ago. Silvia also left, to get some Laradhel."

Anhil nodded. "Aye. She told me to bring it to you." He showed her the glass in his free hand and set it on the nightstand. "I was shocked to see you faint down there," he admitted. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Thankfully Malgorn calmed the other Bards, and everything is relatively controlled downstairs. Silvia went to join him."

Maerad blushed. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble," she said honestly. "I feel like I am a heavy burden on everyone's shoulders…"

"You did not cause any trouble, Maerad. Bards are Bards – they'll gossip until the bears hibernate this fall, and even then they'll find more to whisper about to keep them occupied until spring!"

Maerad bit the inside of her lip. _Helgar. She will gossip about me, spread rumors that are untrue._ She could only imagine what the other Bards were saying. _What had Helgar meant to say? Why had Cadvan cut her off? _"How did you know I was here?" she asked him. "I don't even know where I am."

Confusion scoured his face. "You don't know? I would've _thought_ you'd know - it's Cadvan's room."

Maerad felt abashed. _Cadvan's room? _She surveyed the quarters again: many books and papers were scattered everywhere; the flowers that adorned all of the women's rooms were absent…_Of course he would've brought me here._

Anhilcleared his throat. "Well, I wanted to give you my blessings in private. I - I did not know you were expecting." Maerad imagined she could see a trace of disappointment in his eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it had come. _What was he talking about? _"It comes as a shock to us all, though we all figured it would happen someday." He smiled faintly.

Maerad's eyes widened. "Expecting?" She withdrew her hand from his. "What do you mean?"

"I overheard Silvia discussing it with Cadvan after your fall; she seems to think that is part of the reason you lost consciousness."

It hit her then. _The dizziness, the lack of appetite, the constant insisting that she rest - not to mention her menstruation was late in its arrival - if she was pregnant, it explained how Cadvan knew; he wasn't the father, as Nendir and the others assumed..._

Cadvan had assembled the pieces of Truth together because he knew her; he knew she was too afraid of men for such intimacies. _I have to tell him it's not true. _Her reputation as savior of Edil-Amarandh would be fouled with unfounded accusations. A voice within her mind halted her thoughts. _Do you want Anhil to know you were raped? That you lied to everyone? No, you cannot tell him._

"Are you all right?" she heard Anhil ask. "I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable by coming. I can lea…"

"No," she blurted out quickly. She couldn't run from reality any longer. "No."

He frowned and offered her the glass of the medicine liquor. "Can you hold it or would you like me to help you?"

_Pregnant._ _I am pregnant._ The bell tolled, signaling the halfway point through the night. _This isn't happening. This can't be real. _Maerad took the glass with trembling hand. "I'm fine," she repeated numbly. Her mind, on the other hand, was screaming. _What am I going to do? _She would need to talk with Cadvan in the morning. She had to find an answer.

o-0-o

* * *

o-0-o

Cadvan's rage shattered when the cold reality of what he'd done hit him. He dropped to his knees unceremoniously, and grabbed Cyril's upper arm through the nubby linen of his cloak, shaking it vigorously. No response. The man's eyes were glassy and wide with horror; a small black mark streaked across his forehead. Cadvan placed his shaking fingers against the warm skin at the side of his cousin's neck, feeling for a pulse. _He has to be alive. Please let him be alive._

"Please, oh, please." Terror, as sharp tasting as bile, rose in his throat. Surely Cyril couldn't be dead. Not now, not like this, not by his hands. Cadvan pressed both hands to Cyril's face.

"Cyril."

There was no pulse. No movement. No life inside his cousin's body. Cyril of Nenn was dead.

Cadvan moaned, torn with bereavement and torment. He called Cyril desperately with his mind. He received no answer, not even the echo of a reply. Where there had been warmth and love and support, there was nothing but chilled darkness. The link between them surged with loss, and Cadvan's vision darkened. His entire body convulsed as he practically yelled in anguish. He was half-blinded with grief, with no hope of finding comfort anywhere in the world. There was nothing left for him - _nothing._

The night erupted into chaos around him. The storm overhead finally released its pent up energy and silent drifts of snow rained down onto the earth. Cyril's horse bolted out of the stable's open doors, disappearing into the night. Cadvan didn't try to stop it. "It's me, Cyril. It's Cadvan," he said pitifully. "I didn't know it was you..._come back_."

The sight of his cousin lying dead struck a deep, unhealed wound in him: _Ceredin._

"_Cadvan…" Ceredin whispered, coughing on her own lifeblood. "I'll...I'll see you beyond the Gates…"_

"_You're going to be all right," he tried to assuage her pain, to heal the wounds that he had caused. He didn't care about his own injuries. He didn't care about Dernhil lying unconscious nearby, nor about the revenant lumbering off into the nearby woods. He had to focus on Ceredin, to keep her from dying. "Please don't leave me."_

_He watched her blink furiously, struggling to breathe against the choking grip of death. At last her chest collapsed and rose no more. Her vivid eyes dilated and grew dull as they stared back at him. Her blood stained his hands._

He had murdered an innocent Bard. Again.

He tightened his fists against the memory and yelled. To release his anger. To beg forgiveness from the dead. The plea went on and on, filling the entire universe with pain and loss. An unbearable pressure rose within him and shattered. He was well beyond fear. His mind was numb, his mouth dry, his heart pounding - praying for an end to his misery, praying for help. He couldn't think or move - all he could do was _stay._

He gripped Cyril's cold hand so tight that both began to turn white.

Cadvan's voice quavered. "I promised them, Cyril. I promised to never make those mistakes again. I have failed…I have failed you. I have failed everyone."

His whole body seemed to be on fire, a slow, smoldering pain that was burning away at him from the inside the way the ice of Maerad's confession had chilled him_. There is no reason to fight fire or ice anymore,_ he said to himself. _It's meaningless._ Snow stung him; hail struck him like slung stones. His head reeled and pounded with each pulse of his heart. It hurt, but he welcomed the pain. _It's all I deserve...Maerad will not love me now._

He could hear nothing but a deadly silence, hollow darkness, and the weight of his crime. He staggered to his feet, but his strength abandoned him; there was a roaring in his ears and he blacked out. He barely felt himself falling again, and only the memory of his loss penetrated enough to make him fight his way back to consciousness. _Oh, Maerad..._

He found himself half sprawled on the cold floor of the barn, leaning against the side of the building. Despite his spinning head, he managed to relocate Cyril's lifeless body; the Light extinguished in his dark eyes.

"I am sorry," he said simply, unable to find words to compensate for his actions. Cadvan scrubbed the tears off his reddened cheeks, his hands shaking. "I will give you what little honor I can, cousin, what honor I have left." Cadvan didn't mention that the honor was a proper _funeral_; somehow he felt like Cyril was listening, and it made the loss worse.

"What, in the name of the Light, is this?" he heard a rough voice ask. He turned to see a grungy man standing in the entrance of the breezeway. "Who are you? And what have you done?"

Cadvan stood quickly, embarrassment consuming his demeanor. He didn't turn back to cover Cyril's body; the Bard had obviously seen him.

The man's lips thinned and his eyes narrowed as he glanced between the corpse and Cadvan. For a moment the two men stood there uneasily; Cadvan was at a loss for words; the other man seemed shocked. "I've seen your face before…you are...Cadvan of Lirigon, aren't you?" The man snickered and spat at Cadvan's feet. "Twice a murderer? You are a great Bard indeed."

Cadvan furowed his eyebrows and took a step forward. "Who are you…" Cadvan began, his voice tight with anger. "To make such accusations against me? I have paid for my crimes."

"I am a Bard witnessing a crime you have not paid for; that is who I am," the man retorted.

_"There was another at the Inn, one who had been left in charge. His name is Adian," _Maerad's voice whispered into his mind. Then it hit Cadvan. This man was Adian. This was the man he'd been hunting. This was the man responsible for his anguish. For Maerad's pain. For the loss of what was rightfully his.

"No," Cadvan said thickly, unable to swallow the rage building in his throat. "You are no Bard. You are a worthless excuse of a man who violated a woman who saved you from almost certain death at the hands of the Dark, that is what _you_ are."

"So the wench lived? How surprising. I must admit, she had a lot of spirit in her…"

Cadvan couldn't believe the audacity of the man before him. He was done listening. He didn't call for his magery, nor did he think of Adian's Bardic powers. A more primal instinct overtook his senses. He drew his arm back and punched Adian in the face; the force of the impact sent him sprawling to the barn floor. "Is that your thanks?" Cadvan spat. He felt his control faltering. "Answer me!" He demanded. Adian did not reply. Cadvan picked the thin man up by his shoulders and pushed him against the rough board wall. "Speak or I shall make you speak," he warned through gritted teeth. "Consider yourself lucky I use no magery on you."

"Why would you after killing your cousin with it?" he question caught Cadvan off guard; Adian struggled and kicked Cadvanhard in the shin. Cadvan roared in pain and released him. Adian took the opportunity to draw his sword; he kneed Cadvan in the gut, furthering his opponent's pain with a slight grin. Cadvan doubled over; he could barely breathe. He cursed himself for leaving himself vulnerable to attack. _Get up, _a voice urged. _Fight. _

Time froze when Adian lifted his blade. For a moment, Cadvan thought of how easy it would be to die, how simple it would make things - death would be an easy escape _- _But he thought of Maerad, about how much he loved her. He had to live, if only to see her again. Adian didn't notice Cadvan reach for a dagger hidden beneath his blackcloak and continued the downward stroke of his sword. With a quick motion, Cadvan lodged the knife deep into Adian's right thigh. _Victory._

Adian cried out. Stumbling backwards, his hands clutched at his wound. Now that Cadvan could see him clearly, he truly looked pathetic. His yellow mop of hair was full of chaff and straggling around his face in dirty coils. One eye was turning black and he was starting to sweat; his lower lip was split and bleeding. His brown tunic was torn; one of his leather boots had come unlaced and sagged around his ankle. He stood before Cadvan for a moment, his chest heaving as he gulped for air; long enough for Cadvan to believe he might really be hurt.

"You will come back to Innail to face your punishment," Cadvan said in a firm voice. He unsheathed his sword from its scabbard. "It is not a request.

The man wiped the blood trickling from his thin lips. "Taking me back won't undo what's been done. Her innocence will never be yours! Your family's lifeblood seeps into the earth even as we speak. What a heroic effort to make right what is wrong, cobbler's son!"

Adian launched himself at Cadvan in defiance, a warcry escaping from his lungs. An explosion of crows erupted from the trees outside the barn, cawing in alarm as they whirled around the courtyard. Back and forth the two men twisted and fought through the small enclosure. Cadvan grunted at the deep cut on his forearm, but he did not falter, nor did Adian halt his attack. The pungent scent of sweat filled the air, the clanging of metal against metal reverberating through the night, mingling with the sounds of the crows and whirling wind. Blood trickled down the hilt of Cadvan's sword, making it slippery and difficult to grasp. He switched sword hands, fighting instead with his left. Their blades met again and slid along each other, locking at the hilts.

Adian glared at Cadvan through narrowed eyes; his crimson blood flecked Cadvan's cheek. "You can bring me back to Innail but it won't change anything. It'll only make your life more of a living hell!"

Fury warred with anguish in Cadvan's expression._ "Yes...Slake your vengence, but spare his life."_

He growled as he pushed his sword sideways, like a staff. A grin betrayed a subtle opportunity that presented itself when Adian's foot sank into a patch of soft bedding as he gave ground. Cadvan struck out with his heel to knock Adian's legs from under him. He muttered a charm in the Speech and Adian froze. He stood there breathing heavily; a metallic taste overtook his mouth. Cadvan spit the blood out, not caring what wounds he had suffered. He had claimed the victory; Adian had lost. The criminal would suffer his penalty. He was somewhat surprised at Adian's skill in fighting - as an expert swordsmen, Cadvan had expected it to take little effort to subdue him; he'd proven otherwise. His mind still reeling, he wiped the sweat from his face. A few salty beads escaped and trickled down onto his lips.

"No. Taking you back to Innail won't fix what has happened," Cadvan replied. "But it's a start."


	10. Chapter 10

**_Author Note: _**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far; I didn't spellcheck this chapter before posting it and it showed; it's fixed now, though. I'm hoping more of my regular readers will review and tell me if they enjoyed it. *nudge nudge* ;)

* * *

~oOoOo~

Grimy oil lamps bathed the entryway of the Running Wolf Inn in a dull yellow glow. Two wooden tables were pushed together in front of the stone fireplace, where a roaring fire burned in the grate. On the tables lay Cyril - bundled in layers of woolen blankets - awaiting his final journey back to Innail. To a passerby, the inn would seem as it did any other winter night, but Cadvan knew the difference. He could smell in the smoke-tinged air the stench of his own doom, of what awaited him when he left Nenn.

He stared at his cousin's lifeless body. Cyril was lean to the point of gauntness, and still fairly youthful despite his age, though stringy hair fell across his brow. Cadvan tried to wipe away the black mark from Cyril's forehead, to conceal the wound that he had inflicted, but it stood out vividly against Cyril's ashen face in the gloom. He gave up completely when he noticed blood dripping from his injured arm and spread the last blanket corner over the dead man's face.

He checked the strip of fabric he'd used as a pressure dressing; it was soaked. _I'm losing too much blood, _he thought. Adian had managed to slice deep into muscle with his sword, enough so that each heartbeat produced fresh crimson blood. Cadvan fumbled around in his cloak pocket and produced a fresh bandage. Though Adian had been relatively easy to fight, he had let his greatest surge of anger leave him vulnerable to Adian's attack. _Apparently he knows enough to notice a weakness when he sees one. _Cadvan instantly thought of Maerad's weaknesses and brushed it aside. He had to focus.

_I should sit a moment. I have taken care of Cyril. I must rest._ He sat in a nearby chair and wished for his arm to stop throbbing, to wake up to find the entire evening had just been a horrible dream. His wish wasn't granted. Visions sifted across his mind – he was falling unconscious – but he didn't notice. He could only hear a voice begging for mercy.

He woke suddenly, his eyes flickering. He staggered to his feet. _Am I losing my mind now?_ He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't move any more. He couldn't even close his eyes against the sight of his dead cousin in front of him. Painful visions of having seen this before overlaid themselves on the reality before him. He clutched at his face; tears streamed down his cheeks again. _Cyril is dead. Like Ceredin. And it is my fault. _Panic overcame him again. He couldn't breathe with the pain of those memories. He would have given his life to free himself had it not been for Maerad. He had to fight for her; he couldn't give up now. But what he had he knew would not be enough. He would have to atone for his crime, and because of his dark past, he knew the First Circle of Innail would not suffer his guilt to pass. He would have to leave Maerad again, and this time it would be permanent. He had succeeded in nothing.

Something inside him died.

Three days. Three short days had slipped away like water through his fingers. He stared into the lamp closest to him. An insect drawn to the warmth of the building droned past his ear towards the flame._ Three days since she told me what that bastard had done to her. _Cadvan remembered Adian lying on the ground outside in the freezing storm, bound and gagged. He was still unconscious. _Good riddance._ Cadvan's anger flared; _it would be much easier to kill him_…

But something within him pitied the man, and had it not been for the pain, he would have brought him inside after the fight had ended. _He cannot die until he is punished for what he did, _Cadvan responded to the prompting of his conscience. _I must stay focused, if only for Maerad._

He massaged his aching hand and, when he was once again master of himself, summoned a mage light. He doused the fire with water and blew out the lanterns. Picking up his cousin's dead weight proved to be challenging, both physically and mentally. The pain in his arm heightened with each step. Memories assailed him as he neared the doorway. All the times he had spent with his cousin playing music had come to an abrupt halt. There was no future that involved his family; they had all passed beyond the Gates. Cyril's flute, which sat in a leather case near the foot of the stairwell, would remain silent forevermore.

Cadvan was grateful when he had stepped outside and left the inn behind. It was cold, but the sky had cleared. The stars, hard and bright, glittered in a deep black sky. He walked through the fresh snowfall, and gazed up into the blanket of darkness in search of Illion. He wondered if Cyril had made his way to the Paths of the Dead, and if the swathe of stars he watched were the same that most of his childhood friends traversed. He also thought of Maerad, the woman who didn't know where he was, or what he had done, and he sighed. It would be a long journey back.

~oOoOo~

Adian awakened to a throbbing headache. He felt something surrounding him, and realized with a start that he was moving; he opened his eyes in alarm. Cyril's stiff, cold body sat upright on the horse in a gruesome embrace with him, bound by magery so neither would move. He coughed in disgust, drawing Cadvan's attention. "Release me, now, Bard."

Cadvan continued walking but, in a monotone voice, called back, "You are bound by magery, worm. Nothing you say will free you now. Should you try to escape, I would have to kill you."

_He's bluffing, _Adian thought. _He can't kill me…if he does, there is no proof, and he becomes the murderer of two instead of one. _He found it somewhat difficult to believe that Cadvan would actually harm him further. Because?

_Because he looks too intelligent. He looks too intelligent for commonplace violence_.

_A naïve delusion,_ he reminded himself. _Look how quickly he killed his cousin, and how he jumped at you when you mentioned Maerad. __Remember who he is and what he is._

He made no noise as he tried loosening the physical restraints of rope around his wrists. He didn't dare to try breaking the spell Cadvan had placed upon him; not yet anyway. He was still hurt from the fight, however long ago that had been. He guessed by the sun in the west that he'd been unaware for at least a day, if not more. He had to find another way to free himself.

He inspected Cadvan with full attention, and ignored the dead body clinging to him. His gaze rested briefly upon the Bard's arm, and then returned to the back of his head. "Not difficult to recognize," he commented, "the fault you made while fighting. A Bard as well taught as you should know that anger allows one's weaknesses to show."

Cadvan kept leading the stallion onward and didn't respond.

"...But it was skilled fighting nonetheless. This wound you gave me in my leg will have crippled me, I'm sure. It was kind of you to stop the blood flow, but why did you do it?" he asked, and then added, "am I truly worthy of life?" _Perhaps it will make the Bard think twice on his actions and forget mine._

"Do not test me," Cadvan warned.

"We have both committed crimes, Cadvan. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement of sorts," he suggested. "One that would benefit both of us."

Cadvan stopped.

Adian continued his case. "Release me, and I swear never to tell a soul of what you have done. You would be free to do as you wish, who you wish..." he snickered under his breath. "For all the Bards know, it was you who bedded her, not I. No one knows, Cadvan...let it remain that way and retain your honor."

Adian watched his captor carefully for signs of acquiescence. A flicker of thought passed over Cadvan's face as he turned to look at him. Cadvan's expression hardened, however, into a look of utter hatred, and Adian knew at that moment all was lost.

"I would like nothing better than to drive this steel into your vitals. So don't tempt me with your lies. You are going back to Innail, and you will tell the Circle that in accord with the laws of this land, you deserve punishment for your hideous crime. I will make sure that whatever punishment meted out to you is one equivalent to the suffering which you subjected Maerad to. Understood?"

Adian retorted quickly, "What of your crime, Cadvan? I did not kill as you have. You think that your fellow Bards will forgive you again, and let you live peacefully with her, but you think wrong. They will judge you just as they judge me; without her testimony, you stand alone." He continued. "I've only had the pleasure of meeting her once, but it was enough to know that that will never happen. She is too weak, and you know it."

Without so much as a warning, Cadvan walked up beside Darsor and began untying Adian.

"What are you doing?" Adian attempted to hide the fear in his voice. _What if he leaves me out here to die?_

The rope fell away. Cadvan bound Cyril to Darsor with it and then threw Adian down onto the snowy ground. He hit with a thud, and tried scrambling to his feet; the magery held him firmly in place. "Think twice of what you might do, Cadvan. Everything and everyone serves a purpose," Adian pleaded, trying to appeal to Cadvan's rational side.

"Every bone and every fiber within my body yearns to see your blood spill onto the earth. You don't deserve life. You don't have a purpose," he replied with disdain, the hatred spilling out of his mouth.

"Then why not kill me and release your frustration? Do it, Cadvan," Adian dared.

Cadvan sensed the man struggling beneath the powerful charm he had set upon him. It didn't falter, but it was draining his energy.

"Do it," Adian urdged

Cadvan kicked the man hard in the groin. Adian doubled and groaned in pain. "But neither do you deserve the release of death."

He threw the man back onto the horse and continued onward.

~oOoOo~

It was dark before he reached the shadow of firs. A boreal breeze stirred the boughs, but Cadvan didn't feel the cold. His flesh burned, and his lips were parched. From time to time he paused to rub a handful of snow across his forearm, but he didn't dare linger. He had to make it to Innail before he collapsed. On into the silent plains, he had to keep reminding himself, lest it slip from his mental grasp, that he needed to be prepared for questioning. They would not think of ill of him until Adian spoke, which gave him time to find Maerad and explain what had happened. It would give him time to convince her that he had meant well, and that the entire series of events could have been avoided. But what if he wasn't granted such luck? If they looked upon Cyril's body and saw his wound before he reached Maerad, he would have no such chance. He would have to be quick. Either way, he would be arrested. He needed Maerad on his side, if only for moral support.

The next morning came early. He paused, shaky and confused at the top of a knoll, where the sudden dazzle of sunlight made him blink. For a moment he stood squinting; it was too bright, too harsh. He felt intolerably exposed. The shadows of the firs he had long since left called him back to their reverie. Adian lay sideways across the saddle, unconscious; Cadvan had put another spell over him to keep him quiet while entering Innail.

_Push forward, _a voice told him. He would die from hypothermia if he fell asleep here.

It gave him an adrenal rush he much needed and he forced himself over the next handful of hills until Innail was within sight. It was only then that he let out a sigh of relief and breathed anxiety in to replace it.

_"Here we are, old friend," _he stroked Darsor's muzzle. _"Forgive me, now, for what I have asked you to do this day, and for what I have done."_

"_I know you meant well," _his horse replied. _"I will speak for you."_

Cadvan frowned and clicked his tongue. Darsor started forward.

"_I'm afraid it isn't so simple, friend. It is not you I need to speak on my behalf. I need Maerad to speak on her own behalf and tell them what this man has done."_

_"Will she?"_

Cadvan could hear someone yell in the watchtower, and watched as the gates began to slowly open. They had recognized him.

"_I can only hope."_


	11. Chapter 11

_Readers, I promised I would finish this story, so here is the next chapter at long last (after a 1 ½ years...wow)– I hope it is enjoyable! As always, I appreciate constructive criticism; it's the only way I get better ~ Eleve_

~oOoOo~

Fatigue burned Cadvan's eyes more than the light of the dawning sun. The sleep he'd had in the previous three days could have been counted in minutes and still not threatened to fill an hour, and that had been after a long ride to Nenn. After he had killed his cousin. After he had thrown away the lifetime devotion of serving the Light to assuage the hurt of his first crime: killing Ceredin. His mind rumbled with sorrow and anger, his subconscious prodding him with morbid chants. _"Murderer, murderer"_.

He could feel the dagger of his deeds being thrust deeper into his chest, and the physical wound on his forearm burned fiercely. He glanced down; blood still seeped from it. _How do I explain this cut? How does one explain accidentally killing your cousin? An accident? Who would believe that now? _

"_No one,"_ his conscience retorted. _"You yearned for blood, and bloodshed is what you received."_

_I wanted to avenge Maerad's suffering; I wanted only to kill the man who hurt her, and with just cause._

"_Why do you feel you can justify death? It is your arrogance? You have long feared you actions would catch up with you...and now the cost will be more than you can bear, Cadvan."_

He became aware that he was arguing with himself when he heard the gruff voice of a tower guard shouting from an opened shutter high above the thick oak gate. "_Ke Sammach?_"

Cadvan didn't urge Darsor to move quick; instead he took his time contemplating what to tell whomever met him. He did not wish to lie about the happenings- it was against his nature, and would bring him into further ruin... but the need to speak with Maerad was his foremost desire. Cadvan rode up slowly, stopping a few yards back of the gate barred with black steel; it vaguely reminded him of a dungeon door, and he shuddered. _"Cadvan Lirigon Na." _

Luckily, the brawny man who appeared from the gatehouse was not the same person who had seen him leave days before. The guard had no idea how far he had traveled, or in which direction."Cadvan!" he said, with a sort of excitement in his voice. "Everyone has been looking for you." His eyes traveled to the two men on Darsor and he raised a bushy eyebrow.

Cadvan noted the action, and peeled his hood back. "What is your name?"

"Halden," the bearded man answered slowly. "What happened?"

Cadvan judged that by the man's reaction, his face must look horrid - covered in sweat and blood – it probably betrayed his guilt. He looked back at the men atop his mount. The bundled body of his cousin sat slouched against Darsor's neck; Adian was slung sideways across the saddle. The metallic taste of blood, and the stench of decaying flesh overwhelmed his senses; he nearly vomitted. "Much has happened that I must speak with Malgorn of."

The guard frowned and took the reins. "Should I summon him for you? You don't look so well."

Panic rushed through him. "No, that won't be necessary. I must see Maerad first."

"Aye, she's been worried about you," the man sighed, looking off into the distance as if remembering something. "After what happened the other night..."

Cadvan's nostril's flared. With an onrush of anger, he interrupted. "Take this man to the dungeon and hold him there until I return with Malgorn. As for my cousin, he is already lost. Find someone to carry him to the Healing Houses where his body can be prepared for burial."

The guard had no opportunity to react. He watched as Cadvan hurried up the cobblestone road towards the center of the School, a trail of blood drops left in his wake. Against his will, he returned to wondering what Cadvan had been doing outside of the School. He feared the dead man and the unconscious one on his horse told him only too clearly. He immediately set to the task of grabbing the bound man under his arms and giving him a pull. The action resulted in both men tumbling from the horse's back. Cyril's body rolled out of the cloth Cadvan had wrapped him in as it tumbled down the sloped road.

"Light forgive me," the guard whispered in a panic, running to recover the body. He tried pulling him back up to the School's gate, but the body moved only a short distance with each mighty pull. Cyril had been a large man. Now he was a huge dead weight. Halden was calling upon another guard to help him, when he noticed the black mark on Cyril's forehead.

~oOoOo~

Cadvan quickly made his way through the winding roads, shrugging off the unusual glances thrown in his direction. As he reached the main hall, he ran directly into Anhil. Books and parchments scattered across the ground, and for a moment, Cadvan looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Cadvan!" he exclaimed. "Where have you been?"

_It wasn't Dernhil; Dernhil was dead – it was Anhil. Get hold of yourself._ "Forgive me, Anhil. Where is Maerad?"

He finished picking up his things before he answered. "Resting in your room still, I believe. I have kept watch over her, as has Silvia. Her health has seen improvement, but she has been upset since you left without warning. Are you alright?" He touched Cadvan's wound, and glanced up with questioning eyes. "Dare I ask how you got this?"

Cadvan knew he could not fool his friend, nor could he deny that something had happened. "Cyril is dead."

Anhil straightened, and pulled Cadvan inside out of the street. "By whose sword?"

"He was not killed by a sword," Cadvan answered quietly, closing his mind from the images that flooded in of his dead cousin.

Anhil picked up on Cadvan's unease and offered aid. "It should be tended to; it's deep enough to cause harm if you leave it long enough."

"My arm hurts, but it shall heal." Cadvan viewed it as a weakness to admit his enemy had injured him and he couldn't fix the problem himself.

Anhil sensed the dismissal. "We can talk later, yes? It would be best if you saw Maerad; she has been wanting to see you. Just promise me you will see that it get stitches, Cadvan."

Cadvan only nodded.

~oOoOo~

He utilized a back staircase, one that started at the end of a ground floor reading parlor, and emerged at the rear of a third floor hall, right near his rooms. The stair treads were so narrow and so slick that no one used it; the privacy gave him a slight advantage, although he could barely see with just the candle he was using to ascend it.

He paused a moment before he turned and moved through the doorway and into his chamber. "Maerad? Maerad!"

There was no reply. His rooms were silent, save for his heavy breathing.

He turned back towards the door; only when he securely bolted it did he let go of the control he'd maintained outside. He began shaking so hard that the candle's flame danced madly, and spilled drops of hot wax on his hands. He stumbled over to his old chair and collapsed into its comfortable embrace. He sucked on the side of his thumb where the hot wax had scorched him, and stared at nothing in particular, trying to decide what to do now that his plan was foiled. _I have no choice now, _he thought. _I have to go tell Malgorn. By the Light...what will I -_

"Cadvan?"

Her voice shook him from his contemplation. He looked up. Maerad rushed towards him, her light blue dress swishing against the floorboards. _Where had she been? _

He felt too ashamed to address her, now that he had the chance.

"By the Light what happened?" she covered her mouth, seeing his wounded arm and the condition of his person. He seemed to age with every inch she hurried towards him. The imperfections that the sunlight had hidden came into easy focus. The tall, proud, handsome man that Maerad had known had shrunk in stature, as if the weight of his responsibilities and the Bardic power he wielded had compressed him. She could still feel his strength, however, reinforcing why it was foolish to judge Cadvan by his appearance.

She knelt down in front of him, carefully taking his arm. She peel back the strip of cloth slowly to revel the cut completely. "It is deep – when did this happen? I'm surprised you have not fainted."

Cadvan absorbed the image of her troubled face. He gently removed his arm from her grasp and stood, taking the time to strip the damp pack and the stained cloak off his back. He tossed them where he had been sitting. He then pulled his sleeve down to cover his arm, even though the material made it sting. "I nearly did on the way up here; I promised Anhil I would see that it got stitched..."

"Then you must see a healer! I can go -" she reached for him.

"NO!" he shouted louder than he had intended. He didn't have time for the healer or for simple conversation.

Maerad looked stunned. "No," he replied more gently. "There is something more pressing to attend to, something I must tell you quickly."

"I did not mean to upset you," she whispered. "I – I just thought that since you are a Truth Teller...I should tell you the truth..."

He sighed, and thought of a thousand things to say. He wanted to hold and comfort her, to let her know she had not upset him in any way. And he also wanted to admit to what he had done. He replied finally. "As should I."

She continued. "I don't know how to express what I feel, Cadvan. I'm afraid, and... I – I don't know how to talk about such things, especially to a man."

"Maerad... stop."

She paused, her eyes so piercing that he almost lost his resolve. _Almost._

"I went to Nenn, Maerad."

He waited for a response, but when none came, he looked away from her eyes, back to where he had been seated. "This," he gestured, as if in answer to questions unspoken, "is a result of a fight with the man that hurt you."

"I saw from the window you enter the School. Please tell me it is not him that you have brought back."

Cadvan's face closed. He had hoped she would not have seen him; he hoped she hadn't heard anything. "Cyril is dead, Maerad. I brought his body back to be buried."

"What do you mean?" she questioned. "Cyril is away...I told you, he was just away..."

"No..." Cadvan swallowed back the fear growing in him. He had to tell her. He met her gaze, and took both of her hands in his. "He returned late at night, his timing not so fortunate."

"By the Light," she whispered. "Were...were both of you attacked?"

Cadvan sighed. "I had to bring him back, Maerad, to be tried for his crimes..."

"Few know of what happened, Cadvan. It is not something I feel needs to be shared with the entire School."

"There is more, Maerad."

"What do you mean?" she prompted, suddenly cold. "I do not understand..."

"In my anger..." he began, stopping to absorb the feel of her hands in his; he thought it would be the last time she would ever speak to him. "I went to Nenn to avenge what had happened to you. In my anger, I...I attacked the wrong man."

Maerad's eyes widened in the sort of dismay a child experiences when a cherished myth is exploded.

Neither one heard the door open, or knew Malgorn had entered. Both were trapped in an unmoving space in time: Cadvan stunned that he had been able to say anything, Maerad at what he had confessed to.

"Cadvan, we must speak," Malgorn broke the silence. "I spoke with the tower guard after seeing him and another trying to drag a man's body. When I approached, I realized it was your cousin. I saw the mark on his brow. Is the other man, the bound one, the one who killed him?"

The chanting in Cadvan's mind began again. _Murderer, murderer._

Cadvan ignored Malgorn and the voice, insistent on getting his point across to Maerad. He kept his voice low. "It was a grave accident, one that I shall willingly pay for. "But Maerad..." he stepped closer, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You know why I went to Nenn. You must tell the truth, if only for your sake. It is the only way he will be kept from harming another person, from him going free. I cannot bear the thought of him be set free..."

Maerad did not speak and stared at him uneasily. At last she shrugged his arms off and backed away from him. "How can you speak of punishing him, when you yourself have twice committed crimes against those you claimed to love? How can I believe what you say? He was far away from here, I was safe...and it seems you would be more content to bring the bear to the honey for a feast!"

Cadvan recoiled, stunned by Maerad's words. Why was she saying these things? She was supposed to understand, to help him as he had helped her, to have strength enough to stand up for herself. She was Elednor, the Firelily, destroyer of Sharma...where had that strong woman gone to?

"You did more harm going after him than if you had just let him be," Maerad added with less determination than before. "I needed you here with me."

"Do I need to draw you a picture?" he snapped. "He is getting bolder and bolder, and undoubtedly now believes he can do whatever he wants without fear of reprisal. The next time he attacks, the outcome could be much worse; someone could get killed."

"Cadvan -" Malgorn touched his arm. "Let us not argue here. We will talk of this in private, and let Maerad rest; she has been through enough these past few days."

Cadvan was irritated. "No, things have escalated to the point where they demand immediate attention; he must be brought to justice or else Cyril's death will have been in vain, _my _sacrifice will be in vain. We didn't destroy the Nameless One only to let a new evil grow in his stead!"

"Cadvan!" Malgorn raised his voiced. "I can understand your pain, that what happened was an honest mistake." He moved his eyes to Maerad. "We both understand, do we not, Maerad? No one needs to yell."

Cadvan watched Maerad closely. He wished only that she would speak up, save herself and save him what was to come if she didn't. His eyes searched her, but she offered no consolation;it was as if she had turned to stone and was incapable of conversation.

"I am not one to give advice about the matters of the heart, Maerad," he said finally. "What I hope you will heed, what I pray will carry you through this decision, is my counsel to listen to your heart."

She swallowed. "After what I've just heard, my heart no longer knows what it wants."

Cadvan's head was spinning, both from the loss of blood and inability to accept the choice Maerad was making. "I think it does, Maerad, if you open yourself up to it. You know what you must do."

~oOoOo~

After his last words to Maerad, he requested that Malgorn take him to place where he could wait until his trial. That way, no one would question his interests.

"Cadvan, I fear your pride overtakes your senses," Malgorn had said, as they walked down a damp passageway to the place where Cadvan would be held. "Coming here will only prolong your suffering, will only tarnish your name, should anyone find out what happened. Come stay with us. Maerad does need you, she is just upset. We will figure out what we must do -"

"They will find out regardless of where I am; at least now I cannot be accused of cowardice. And Maerad -" he faltered. "Maerad needs time to be alone."

The narrow passage opened into a large cavern, one that he had not expected. It contained all the comforts of a regular chamber. Confused, Cadvan turned to his friend. "What is this?"

"I could not in good faith throw you into a cell to be caged with that man; it would not only be unwise, but unfair to you, after all you have done. This used to be a supply storage, that is until the Nameless One was destroyed. We have no use for it now. I figured it would work nicely as a place for you to stay until I can figure out what to do. Stay strong, my friend; there is still hope yet."

Cadvan listened to the echo of Malgorn's footsteps until all he heard was his heart beating in his ears, and all he could feel was his arm throb. He chided himself at not pointing it out to Malgorn before he'd left. Now, his wait would have to continue. _By the Light, it is cold here._

He tried to think of something to do to numb his mind of it – he found could hear muffled and distracting sounds of people somewhere above him. The laughter, in particular, came across clearly. Cadvan bit his lip as he tried to think of the last time he'd really laughed; it had been with Maerad. He felt colder.

He reached hastily for an earthenware mug that sat on the nearby table. It was full of a thin, slightly vinegary tasting liquid, and he gulped it down. He felt the tingle of the wine race through his body, and it numbed him a bit. He was still unbelievably cold, though, and his headache spun the room with each heartbeat.

_Maybe I drank too much. _

He stopped drinking, certain that the headache would go away as a result. But it remained, soft but insistent. After a few minutes, he determined it was definitely not a result of the wine or the room. He knew what it was.

He shook his head a little, hoping to clear it. He tried to stand, but found himself too weak. He cursed and tried again and again until he managed it. He wobbled slightly under his own weight and moved forward, clutching his arm to the best of his ability, hoping to preserve what blood he had left in him. _So tired, _he thought. _Need rest._

He walked a few more feet, struggling to keep his eyes open. Why had he waited so long? Anhil had offered, even Maerad_._

A few more steps, and his legs gave out.

For a moment, he tried to regain his motivation; he had to stay conscious for Maerad, she needed strength. She needed him like he needed her.

But the ground seemed so forgiving – it wasn't such a bad place to rest, was it? _Maerad needs me._

He could just close his eyes, and wouldn't have to worry about Maerad, or whether she would have the strength to stand against Adian; Anhil could watch over her.

Simply close his eyes and forget where he was, what had happened. Simply close his eyes and die.

He stared up at the rocky ceiling, the laughter from above fading as his body began to shut down. His eyes darkened, and his hearing dulled. He couldn't hold onto any of his thoughts anymore, except the desire to sleep.

And Maerad.

He managed a slight smile, thinking of the last time they had shared a laugh together. It made the pain worth it.

Finally, he could keep himself awake no longer, and he gave in to the tempting darkness, his body falling limp against the cold dirt.


	12. Chapter 12

_Author note: For those who are still reading, I cannot thank you enough for your patience and loyalty in working towards finishing this story with me. I know it has been a while since my last update, so I wanted to post this shorter chapter in the hope that it will stimulate my writing muse and get me back into the concept and idea behind the story. I truly hope to eventually finish this story in the way I had planned when I first began it - so here's to hoping! _

_Side note: From the Ashes has been recently updated, should you be interested in catching up on that story as well. _

_Happy reading!_

___~Eleve_

* * *

~oOoOo~

Maerad lay sprawled on her bed, watching the shadows of candlelight flicker and dance across the ceiling. The sound of the crackling fire added noise to the chamber, though it did not distract her from the name that echoed ceaselessly in her head.

_Cadvan._

His parting words had constantly gnawed at her conscience since they had last spoken. _"What I hope you will heed, what I pray will carry you through this decision, is my counsel to listen to your heart."_

He had been so earnest in his pleading, so distraught at her lack of action, that she had to wonder - _had_ she listened to her heart?

She thought of everything that had transpired since returning to Innail, of all the chaos, and the breakdown of her friendship with Cadvan. Of the long, sleepless nights she lay tormented by the memories of what had happened to her in Nenn. Of her embarrassment during the Meet, and how Ardina had visited her in the garden_. "Cadvan hurts and makes careless mistakes just as you. Look into yourself - I think you will find that he loves you, my daughter."_

She closed her eyes to stave off the sting of tears, the action causing memories to flood into and color the darkness her eyelids created: of Cadvan carrying her limp body in from the cold, mending her wounds, surrendering his chamber so she would feel safe, and his singing lulling her to sleep in a time of unrest…his determination to avenge her hurt, his strength when enduring her unkind words, even his jealousy towards Anhil - these actions had once brought doubt to her mind whether he loved her, or if it was simply pity. But now - hearing Ardina's words and relieving those moments - she came the realization that love had driven his actions, whereas fear had driven hers. He was not to blame for what had happened. He was the man who had _helped_ her, not raped her. He went to Nenn because he loved her. _Because he loves me..._

Her thoughts strayed to Anhil's visit the previous night.

"_He was nearly gone when I found him, Maerad," Anhil's voice was fraught with worry_. "_The wound on his arm is healing, though he is not recovering as he should. I fear for him, as I do you. A darkness has grown in a place where only Light should blossom."_

"_The darkness is not of my creation."_

She had regretted the phrase, even while uttering it, as she regretted everything that had happened since the Singing. What had she been thinking? Cadvan was her best friend, her mentor, and although nothing had been spoken aloud, she cared for Cadvan. She had always felt safe in his presence, she had always trusted him through all of her trials. She knew the distance between them was not her fault, but neither was it Cadvan's.

_Anhil frowned. "Nothing is worse than masking the truth; it takes courage and strength to be honest, but I believe it is worth it."_

"_You think I have been dishonest?" Maerad had retorted. "That I have hidden the truth?"_

_Anhil shook his head_. "_It is Cadvan's Gift is to discern the truth from those who try to hide it, not mine."_

_"Then why doesn't he tell everyone what happened? Why didn't he just save himself all this hassle and what will come of it? Surely if he is a Truth-Teller, the First Circle will believe what he says."_

_Anhil had sat down next to her. "Because he loves you Maerad, and with that love comes respect. He would not force you to do something you did not wish to do or speak of. He would not force you to relive any of this." _

_"He has forced me to relieve something that will now never fade away."_

_Anhil rose, passing her an apologetic look. "I've said more than I intended."_

_He slowly walked across the room, hesitating as he reached the door. He gaze pierced her heart as much as his words. "I do not know what will happen, Maerad. I only know that it is never too late to comfort a friend who is in need. And he needs you, Maerad, whether you choose to believe it or not."_

Maerad hadn't realized how much time she'd spent reliving those memories in her room until she saw the candles burning on the nightstand - _One _candle mark to sundown. _One._

She stood up from her bed, careful to avoid putting too much weight on her ankle that was still healing. She hoped Anhil was right and that it wasn't too late. She needed to make amends, otherwise the guilt and fear would utterly destroy her.

~oOoOo~

Nothing hurt him much since he drank the fiery medicine the red-haired healer had given him. Those places inside and out that had burned so - they still burned, but remotely, as if the hurting belonged to somebody else. He couldn't concentrate on conversation much or for very long; none of it really seemed to matter, anyway.

Anhil had been the one to find him collapsed and unconscious in the tunnel. He had brought him here, with the help of Malgorn and Silvia, to the Houses of Healing, where he had been for several days. Outwardly, his body was mending. However, only an empty place inside him remained; only _that _continued to ache in a way the healer's potions couldn't seem to touch. The place where Maerad had been, so bright and full of life - and now - she wasn't there, she hadn't come, though he was sure someone had told her where he was. He felt utterly abandoned, and for the first time since the death of Ceredin, he felt powerless to change any of it.

_At least I have the potions, _he told himself. The potions let him sleep, a sleep without dreams, and it was the one mercy life had given to him since Maerad had left for Nenn. It allowed him to forget Maerad's pain, the death of his cousin, the vile man who still lived in a cell somewhere in Innail.

"Forgive me for bothering you, but there is a visitor for you, Cadvan," the healer gained his attention by placing a hand on his shoulder; he hadn't even noticed her approach.

He wasn't sure of the time but knew it was late. "At this hour?"

Before the healer answered, a familiar figure walked across the open room and stopped at his bedside. _It couldn't be. _

He studied her face, soaking the sight of her in, in case she decided to leave again, in case she was an illusion. He noticed there were shadows under her eyes that had nothing to do with the way the light was falling on her, and determined that he would not have dreamed such detail. She looked exhausted.

"Please leave us," he asked the healer softly; he paused until the woman had disappeared. "Maerad - " he began; she quickly cut him off.

"There is no excuse for how I have acted, nor can I expect you to forgive me," Maerad said. She did not meet his gaze, but rather stared at her feet in shame. "I have acted out of fear, and for that I apologize; I just- I'm changed, Cadvan. I am not the same person I used to be."

He remembered her ankle and shifted in the bed to make room for her to sit next to him. "Please," he gestured. "You should not bearing so much weight on your leg so soon."

She gratefully took a seat, unsure of what she should say or do. She still did not meet his gaze.

Cadvan broke the silence by continuing. "No, you are not. I expected fear from you, but I did not expect that you would lose your courage completely - you have always been a strong woman, Maerad. I did not enjoy watching others strip you of your strength and leaving you nothing but a shell. I tried, so hard, to find a peaceful solution in my mind as to how to cope with what I thought had happened to you, and what actually happened. And now - now I fear that you could never find it within yourself to forgive me, _Elednor_."

She had not expected him to respond in that fashion; she owed him the apology. "You have taught me so much about life and love that I would like to repay that favor, Cadvan, in what way I am able."

Cadvan didn't react at first. She suspected he, too was unsure of how to repsond, but then he leaned forward and embraced her. He held her tight, not letting her go, not wanting to feel separated from her again.

"Maerad," he whispered, over and over. "You coming here is repayment enough. I thought I'd lost you."

_I thought I'd lost myself, _she thought in her mind.

Strangely though, she didn't find herself afraid to be touched by Cadvan or to be held by him. She was aware that her healing was far from over, and that she still needed to address the Circle about what had happened. But in that moment, all that mattered was that embrace - an embrace that mended many wounds. An embrace free of fear and full of love.

~oOoOo~


	13. Chapter 13

_Happy reading and thanks for your feedback! So excited to have finally finished this chapter!_

_~Eleve_

* * *

~oOoOo~

It came as a relief to be free of the Healing houses and back in his own room. Cadvan was weary of people standing ready to jump should he make even a slight movement. Though he had tried to put those near him at ease in what ways he could, they had been apprehensive about having him there. Only near the end of his stay, two days after Maerad had visited him, had they relaxed a bit, but they still watched him constantly in case he should whisper something they might miss. It unnerved him to be surrounded by people who had no idea what had happened, either at the Meet or in Nenn, and had only vague rumors to supply their curiosity.

Cadvan now paused a moment, his hands moving to run along the base of his neck as the full weight of exhaustion settled over him like stone. His neck and shoulders were stiff and sore from being slouched over, holding his head in his palms as he wept more than he ever had or would ever admit. The shock of what had happened had not fully registered in his mind until Malgorn and Silvia's visit forever ingrained it there, just like today would. He winced at the memory of what the previous day had afforded him.

Today would provide no relief, either. It would crush him down. Batter him. Make his spirit ache in the way his back and neck did.

_By the light, _he winced, his head pounding.

It was a sound in the main doorway that made him turn, muscles tightening instinctively once again, even before he saw who stood there. He rose and inclined his head in a formal greeting. "Maerad."

"I'm ready if you are," she said quietly, a hint of nervousness evident in her voice.

He sat back down and closed his eyes briefly to regain his composure. He listened intently to the creaking of the closing door, the gentle swish of her dress against the floor as she crossed the room to join him, the soft rhythm her breathing settled into as she sat next to him. He shifted his position, his mouth tightening in a grimace of pain, and Maerad looked to the wound he'd taken to his forearm.

_He'd been lucky_, Maerad thought, _to come through the battle with that his only wound_. "Is it not healing? You don't look so well."

"Aye, it is healing well enough." He pulled up his sleeve and unraveled the bandage on his arm, to reveal the healing wound. He touched it lightly, as if testing the strength of the stitches and new skin that was forming there. He didn't bother mentioning his visit with Malgorn and Silvia the previous day; he'd have time to talk to her about it later, after the Council was finished and the stress of it over with. "It hasn't bled or wept any fluid, so I suppose I don't need bandages anymore. I mostly covered it so I didn't have to look at it."

"You should be able to play your lyre in no time, then," she then stated. "That is, if it doesn't hurt your arm too much, moving your muscles."

He nodded absent mindedly.

"I think I miss that the most - hearing music. Laughter." She glared heavily at her feet, transfixed on nothing in particular, deep in thought like he was.

Cadvan allowed himself a half-smile. Their friendship had once again taken up comfortable residence, although both still were healing from wounds unseen. He had been relieved when Anhil visited him the Healing Houses and updated him on Maerad's condition. She was not with child, as Nendir had assumed, and it had been a great relief to hear it. It seemed Maerad was relieved, too, although neither addressed the subject directly.

"I miss hearing your laugh," he said eventually. "You must promise me that after today, whatever happens, that you will learn to laugh again."

"Only if you promise to do it with me," she replied, looking over at him. She finally noticed the wetness on his face and with her sleeve attempted to dry his cheek. The gesture was not expected and at first it didn't seem to register in his expression, but moments later his mouth opened slightly and he averted his eyes. "Do you fear what will happen?" she asked gently when he sat mute for another long moment. "It seems you do not wish to speak with with me."

He shook his head. "You have done nothing wrong. I simply don't expect you to ever forgive me for what I have done; I will never forgive myself."

Maerad sighed. "I killed Ilar out of blind fury when I feared she would attack us, and yet you forgave me of that grave mistake. I would not hesitate in forgiving you of yours, either, Cadvan."

Cadvan remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, staring at her longer than was strictly necessary. He knew better than to relive past faults, and thus chose not to parry words with her. If she forgave him, it was more than he could have hoped for, but it did not change the feeling he had in his own heart. "I told you then that Bards do not kill others unless there is no other option. When you returned in the state you were in, I was angry with myself for letting you go, and I let that anger consume me...you were afraid, you still are. And yet in so many ways, you more courageous than many I've known, even above Oron or Silvia. Certainly above myself..."

"I will never be whole again and I doubt I am stronger than they are," Maerad admited. "I doubt I will ever be able to forget this pain and learn to love without fear." Maerad took his hands and gripped them tight. "But I promise to try. You are my best friend, Cadvan. I swear to you, I realize now, you would never hurt me. It takes courage to say what you have, and that's more than what I've done so far."

He resisted the urge to press her against him, to hold her tightly. He didn't want to. It felt wrong, and he felt dirty for even thinking it. Instead, he rested his chin atop her head, holding her like he might a sister.

His heart twisted and he whispered, "It's time."

~oOoOo~

When Maerad and Cadvan arrived in the Council Room, she was surprised to see there were a more than a dozen people who were clearly not Bards. She assumed they were the Stewards of Innail, made up of three men and two women, who worked in tandem with the other seven Bards in the First Circle to keep the lands in the Innail Fesse prosperous and governed. There were other Bards also, slightly familiar faces, including Anhil's present, watching them as they crossed the room. Their seats were arranged in a manner that was similar to an oval, with enough space for her and Cadvan to enter into the middle of the circle where there were a few empty seats. Cadvan looked at her as if he questioned the position of the chairs but said nothing as he lead her to those seats.

The people present stood as they entered, and sat as they took their places, all except Malgorn.

Maerad could feel her heart thumping wildly in her chest. "_Please tell me we aren't to sit next to him," _she asked Cadvan through Mind speech.

_"I'm sure that isn't the intent, but I am unsure why he is not already present,"_ he replied. "_My Knowing tells me that something has happened."_

Malgorn's voice disrupted their private conversation. "Welcome, Chamber of Bards and Stewards of Innail. Thank you for answering my call, as I realize this meeting is of an unusual nature."

He paused and looked slowly around the circle of Bards and stewards, meeting the eyes of each person present. "Bards of the First Circle, you know why I have called you here, as I have talked to all of you privately outside of this hall. What has happened deeply concerns all of us, but most of all those of you from the outlying towns around Innail, including Nenn, and that is why I asked you all to be present. With us today is Anhil of Gent, whom has been present for some time, along with other Bards from surrounding schools."

Maerad drew in a deep breath, nervously, as the people in the room nodded in greeting to one another. She realized quickly that Malgorn, with difficulty, was hiding the depth of his concern, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

"You are all aware now that Maerad was attacked in Nenn." Here Maerad sat up straighter. "It was revealed that she had been violated in this attack by a man named Aiden, and returned here a shade of her former self. She sustained injuries on her way back from Nenn as a result of fleeing from Nenn. Am I correct so far, Maerad?"

She nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on her hands folded in her lap. "Yes."

"Upon hearing of what had happened, Cadvan of Lirigon set up to avenge her, and bring to justice the man who caused this, only to mistakenly attack and kill his Cousin, Cyril."

A few whispers filled the room. Maerad felt her gut wrench and thought she would vomit the further Malgorn's explanation carried on. "Having discussed this matter with Cadvan and with the Healer, it was believed that Maerad was with child, which further fueled Cadvan's rage. However, the Healer has confirmed this is no longer of issue."

There was an audible gasp of dismay from around the room, and Maerad and Cadvan's eyes met. He looked saddened, not shocked, that Malgorn had mentioned this; she suspected he knew this would be said already. As she looked away, she found herself unable to meet the heavy gazes of the people around her. Although she was grateful for having been spared the burden of explaining what happened, she felt like she had been robbed further of her dignity; it had happened to her, and it was her responsibility to share it if she chose. She realized with a heavy conscience, that Malgorn had arranged this in such a way as to prevent her from having to speak, speaking himself so quickly that she had little time to ask Cadvan anything that had been mentioned or to organize her thoughts.

Malgorn continued. "Innail and its lands are all subject to Bardic law, which would now dictate that for their crimes, both Cadvan and Aiden face punishment."

An unknown man with flaming red hair leaped out of his chair, his mouth open and ready to speak, but Silvia held her hand up to indicate Malgorn wasn't finished, and he slowly sat down.

"Moreover, given the degree of the crime committed by Aiden upon Maerad, it would be the duty of this council to decide whether or not he has forfeit his life. However…" Malgorn paused and both he and Silvia met Maerad's faltering gaze, "Upon scrying him, his mind unraveled. He was found this morning, dead in the cell in which he was placed."

The final statement nearly caused a riot. Almost everyone in the room stood up and started shouting, both cheers of victory against the attacker and against the lack of action against Cadvan for Cyril's death. The only two who remained seated were Cadvan and Maerad who sat in shocked silence, both comtemplating what the man's death meant.

_"He is dead?" _Maerad exclaimed. Cadvan did not answer.

Silvia again raised her hand, and her voice rang out over the room. "It is impossible to try a dead man or to discern any further information from those most involved in this situation. Malgorn, myself, as well as other members of this Council were present during this man's scrying; there is little doubt about the sickness we found in the dark recesses of his mind. As for Cadvan, he agreed yesterday to allow Malgorn to scry him as well, to fully understand the events that unfolded. We have little doubt in our minds that Cadvan is guilty of a tragic accident, but has suffered enough from those actions."

Maerad felt tendrils of sympathy stretch around her chest. She knew the pain that scrying caused, and wondered if that was why Cadvan had been so distant in their conversation earlier. She longed to reach out to him, so that he would know she understood why he was so distant, that she understood why he was so quiet, but she realized that it probably caused him additional pain when she touched his mind with hers. Even her own mind was reeling, hearing the news of Adian's death. A darkness in her own mind relished in the knowledge of his demise, but another part pitied the man - he had obviously been very sick.

Frowing she listened to the wrathful murmur around the table. The red haired man stood again, his eyes flashing. He was mid-aged at most, a dark, barrel-chested man with a heavy-jawed face shadowed by a stubble beard and a small, piercing dark eyes. "If Cadvan is Maerad's mentor, surely there is Bardic law that dictates the punishment for his actions."

Malgorn nodded. He was about to speak when Anhil raised his voice. "Prior to the events that unfolded with Cadvan, I agreed to help teach her, effectively making me her mentor and not Cadvan."

"You swore no oath as her teacher," the man retorted. "Cadvan did. At least this is what the members of the First Circle have informed me."

"Indeed he did, Steward, but when Maerad was instated as a full Bard, his responsibility over her was no longer binding. It was out of friendship and in the interests of the Light that he continued to teach her, just as I have chosen to do. Therefore, he cannot face punishment as her sole mentor or any law that pertains to it."

Everyone sat in tense silence. Maerad stared at the man steadily. She ignored Cadvan's request to keep silent. "I know Cadvan better than you. I have traveled with him for the past year; he has saved many lives, including my own. I would not be alive without him, nor would I have been rescued from Gilman's Cot. The Singing would not have happened, and Sharma would still rule these lands."

The man's manner was stiff, as though he spoke respectfully with an effort, "My lady, I mean you no insult. We all know you have seen much in your short life and fought nobly in the name of the Light. But it's in the name of the Light that he must be punished, since he quite clearly sides with the Dark more often that not!" He sat down truculently, having banged his fist against the arm of his chair. "You were not even a thought when he commited a similar offense. He was granted forgiveness then, and look what it has lead to - the death of an innocent man, one whom brought Nenn income. He has harmed many by his actions, and we cannot afford for this to happen again."

Cadvan and Anhil stood simultaenously; Cadvan was able to mask his anger quite well, Maerad thought, but Anhil glared at the man with obvious disdain. "I would advise, master Thendel, that you realize that accusation you have just laid out."

Maerad forced herself to sit still, telling herself that she would jeopardize the fragile case her friends were constructing in her and Cadvan's favor. She had drawn all eyes to her in the previous public setting, and didn't want that embarrassment again nor did she think she could speak to Cadvan's previous crime. The man was right, she hadn't been there. _And you weren't there, either, when he killed Cyril, _she reminded herself.

Still, she gritted her teeth and clenched her hands, listening and watching Anhil's eyes, almost golden in the light of the Council chamber, sweep across the room like those of a falcon or hawk. "You claim that Cadvan sides with the Dark and yet you eagerly overlook Maerad's rescue her from imprisonment. Did he not school her and did he not protect the First Bards of this school from the Hulls that took the life of my brother? He has reunited Maerad with the only member of her family left living, and traveled with her for the last year in an attempt to destroy the very master of the Dark you claim he follows. Tell me, Thendel, were you there, when Maerad and her brother destroyed Sharma? It does not do well to speak of someone who delivered you from almost certain peril."

The hall erupted in conversation and Thendel raised his voice. "Who are you to speak, Anhil? You are not even a member of this Council. You have no say here."

"Nay, but my brother was. And in his stead, and in vouching for my own friends, I am here. I recognize the truth for what it is, and as a member of this _council,"_ he paused for emphasis, "so should you. Cadvan did commit a crime, but only in defense of the person he cares for most, the person who deserves that kind of protection. Would you do any different in his place?"

"Why does the lady say nothing?" a broad shouldered woman squawked. A few others nodded in agreement.

"Why must you speak for Cadvan? Why can he not answer for his own crimes?" another man asked.

Maerad's head was spinning with the chaos of the council. She saw Cadvan turn his gaze to a tall, gaunt man with a ring of wispy white hair around the base of his knobby skull. "Steward Callais, I do not believe that I have any words that would enhance what is already known regarding what happened in Nenn, nor do I wish Maerad to relive those moments," he said. "You have been told of what happened, and Malgorn has agreed to tell any of the people present here what was seen in my scrying. If you wish to bandy words, then hear this - perhaps if those governing Nenn took positive actions, people like Aiden wouldn't be in a position to cause such trouble".

The tall man lost what little color he had to begin with. "You dare accuse _us_ of being at fault?"

Cadvan shrugged. "Your town has had peace and unity through this Council and the Bardic laws, despite this war against the Dark. While Maerad was away fighting for you and your people, you threw that unity aside for ambition, for naked greed. It was agreed upon that with the help of the Bards, you would maintain your village, and be prosperous. Had you kept your word, my cousin would not have been forced to pay a lowly wage to an even lower man so that he could travel elsewhere in order to maintain his household."

Before the Bard could retort, Silvia cut him off sharply. "This council was not called to discuss the affairs of Nenn and Innail's outlying lands, nor was it called to discuss matters already settled." Maeard was stunned by the serious tone of Silvia's voice. "Cadvan, the members of this council are aware that you went to Nenn and likely understand why you traveled there. However, for the purposes of this council, I want you to tell the members present one thing - why did you not come first to see Malgorn or myself? As First Bards, this matter could have been dealt with in an entirely different manner that would not have resulted in your cousin's death."

Maerad sat silently, wishing herself away from the room but knowing she needed to stay focused, even if the council itself was not. She felt Cadvan look upon her for a moment and then lifted his eyes towards Silvia. "I doubt that anyone, in a similar situation, would be able to let another fight in their stead for the person they love."

Maerad's heart skipped a beat. She felt her cheeks flush red as Malgorn looked at her, a certain look in his eyes that pitied her for having to stand through this questioning.

"So you claim that love blinded your reasoning?" Silvia asked.

She heard Cadvan swallow. "It was my own failure at protecting someone I love that blinded my reasoning. I spent the last year of my life traveling with this woman, protecting her from far more fearsome foes. If I had traveled with Maerad to Nenn, none of this would have happened. But alas, I did not, and I accept whatever decision this council comes to in regards to the punishment for the crime I have committed. I only ask that Maerad not be pitied for what has happened; she does not deserve that. She deserves respect and admiration for her courage and strength that many other Bards lack."

Overwhelmed and speechless, Maerad could feel the warning of tears filling her eyes. She knew that Cadvan cared for her, but loved her? Even after everything she had put him through?

Silence filled the hall for a long moment and Silvia seemed to digest what Cadvan had said. She leaned towards Malgorn and began talking to each other.

"What then becomes of him?" woman of the First Circle spoke up. The woman had sat silently throughout the noisy meeting, but now twisted around to better view of Council, Anhil in particular, whom sat to her left. "Surely we have been given enough evidence to judge this matter. Since you clearly have words in mind for us, brother of Dernhil, what are your thoughts?"

Anhil spoke up. "I would respectfully suggest, then, that judgment not be given by the members of this Council."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "By whom then should it be given?"

"By the person most affected by this entire ordeal, the one whom we all owe allegiance and trust. I believe she has earned the right to pardon someone whom she considers a dear friend after everything she has done in favor of the Light."

Everyone in the room turned towards her, their eyes stabbing her like tiny pins. Her heart raced and her mind went blank for a long moment, to a place where she thought she would never be able to leave - a place of silence and safety, far away from the judging eyes of the council. And then she heard again what Cadvan had said to her: _What I hope you will heed, what I pray will carry you through this decision, is my counsel to listen to your heart__._

Silvia spoke up gently. "You've been very quiet, my dearest Maerad. Think not that this is how most Council meetings commence, for many more words have been said today than necessary. We all agree to hear your opinion, should you wish to give it."

Time slowed. She heard the heavy breathing of the people around her, the scents of fear, annoyance, triumph, and grief mingled together in the close proximity of the room. She was vaguely aware of the hum of magery around her, and the tingling it sent up her spine with its knowledge.

"There is nothing to judge," she spoke finally. The entire room was still, the air tense. She turned to Cadvan, "You have committed no crime that you haven't already been punished for. You retained your honor by returning to Innail with your cousin and..." she hesistated. "And a criminal. You could have lied or been weak. But you were strong, stronger than I could ever hope to be. If the decision were to lie with me, Cadvan would be forgiven of his faults, just as I have been forgiven of all of mine." She took a deep breath to steady herself and bring back her composure. Surprisingly, she felt exhilarated; Cadvan had been right - the truth had set her free.

Cadvan searched her eyes as Malgorn addressed the other Council members, his words lost to both of their ears. In a single instant, a thousand moments were shared silently and Maerad remembered what she liked most about Cadvan - his smile, his kindness, his selflessness - all the things that she thought were impossible to receive from anyone, let alone a man. She knew then, that she would heal, and that as before, since the day they had met, he would help her and stand by her side, even if it meant harm to himself. She knew then that she didn't just like him. She loved him.

"Alas then, we come to it. It appears most are in favor of amnesty for Cadvan. Since Maerad is now a Full Bard, he cannot be held under Bardic Laws involving Mentoring. He is also Cyril's only family member left, so there is no one whom Cadvan could pay any service of debt to. Lastly..." he paused looking at them both. "I believe enough suffering has occurred because of this situation, and no good would come from punishing one whom has saved so many from almost certain death."

"What is his punishment to be then?" Thendel asked, visibly upset. A few other bards agreed. "As a steward of Nenn, I expect that my imput be weighed into consideration; we did not come here for nothing."

"I have agreed to swear before this Council that I will not take violent action against another individual...on pain of death," Cadvan stood, walking towards Silvia and Malgorn. "And I take this oath, as all of you bear witness."

His face seemed closed and Maerad wondered why as a light began to radiate around him. A moment of silence passed as Cadvan looked upon the pair, and she assumed they were communicating through Mind Speech. A moment later, she saw that he raised his hand, as did Silvia and Malgorn, and a brief flash of light filled the room as their hands met, blinding everyone watching. She heard Cadvan take a gasp, and she blinked furiously to clear her vision so she could better see what was happening.

"_It is done," _Silvia said softly into her Mind. "_You and Cadvan may leave, dear one; I'll come see you later."_

Cadvan returned to his place next to her, but did not sit. He remained standing and offered his hand. "Penance has been paid. Our presence here is no longer required; Malgorn will find us after it has ended"

_"What happened?"_ she asked him. "_What did they do?"_

_"I will tell you when we are alone. For now, I wish to leave this place." _He bowed low to the Bards of the chamber, and Maerad copied the gesture. She briefly met the gaze of the man who had been against them the whole council, thinking to be met with a look of hatred, but saw his face was void of any expression, as if his mind had been cleared.

She had no time to look further as Cadvan led her quickly from the room, her mind full of questions.


End file.
